Schedules and Colds

I just got over a cold.  Everyone else had colds in January and February.  Mine came when everyone else got better.  I don't think it came because it was winter or because it was cold season.  It came because I had a busy schedule. 

For the past 3 weeks I have had extra errands and tasks almost each evening after school.  I am sure that my schedule was not so different from most other people, but I work hard not to over schedule myself.  My health will deteriorate quickly if I don't pace myself.  The MS part of me has a measured amount of energy.

Many years ago, my daughters and I visited family over Labor day weekend.  This was before cancer and MS entered my life.  For most people, Labor Day weekend occurs before they begin the school year.  It is supposed to be the final weekend of summer break.  For us, Labor Day weekend is the first long weekend after beginning school.  We have often already attended at least 2 weeks of school before that weekend comes.  Most years, I use the long weekend to recuperate after beginning the crazy school schedule again.

On this particular weekend, we traveled 8 hours to go camping with family.  We slept in a tent and stayed busy playing in the woods for 3 days.  Upon arriving home and returning to school, all 3 of us got sick.  These kinds of events might sound fun, but I am constantly guarding myself against being run down so I often have to turn them down.

I used all my sick days for back surgery so I worked last week while I was sick each and every day.  I took my daughter to pick up her license and had lunch together while sick.  I went to my daughter's competition while sick.  I took the dog to the vet while sick. 

Finally, on Saturday, I stopped pushing through the ache and the misery and made myself stay on the couch the entire day.  I blew my nose, I wiped my watery eyes, I looked at my sad, sick face in the mirror.  I rested.  On Sunday, I finally felt better.

This post isn't about my cold.  It is about health.  It is about taking care of yourself.  It is about knowing yourself.

During the week of sickness, I didn't exercise once.  I came home late, didn't feel well and couldn't bring myself to exercise.  After the third day, my back was starting to stiffen up.  By the end of the week, my nerve was hurting.  The old pains I had post-surgery were returning. Those pains have been gone for months.  They weren't scary pains that made me wonder if the surgery helped.  They were aching pains caused by lack of movement.  As soon as I stopped moving, all my muscles stiffened up. 

These stiff moments reminded me of the importance of movement.  Movement is how I am healing from back surgery.  Movement is how I remain strong enough to be good at my job.  Movement celebrates my strengths and reminds me of my weaknesses.  Movement is needed to be better at living.

Try to find a way to move.  Move through the pain, move through the ache, move through the moments where every part of you wants to stay still.  Movement will bring you healing and joy if you let it.

Dropping Off and Letting Go

My husband and I have been very fortunate to be teachers.  Throughout our careers and our daughter's education, we have rarely had to leave them at school.  They either attended school where my husband worked or where I worked.  We didn't necessarily see them throughout the day, but we were in the same building.  We traveled to school together, we went to our respective places first thing in the morning, passed each other in the halls, met up again at the end of the day and traveled home together. 

The only days I had to drop them off and drive away was when I was sick and wouldn't be going to work.  It didn't matter how old and responsible they were, dropping them off at school always caused a little tear in my heart.  I was entrusting them completely to the adults in the building.  I wouldn't be just down the hall.  I would be a 10 mile drive away.  

I know many people who do this daily.  They put their kids on buses, they drop them at the front doors.  Some don't even get to see their kids get on and off the bus because their work hours don't align so nicely with school hours.  I know how fortunate I am.

Yesterday, I had another of those slightly painful moments as I let my children go again.  My oldest daughter just got her license.  I am ready for it.  I was already driving quite a bit at her age.  I am ready for her to take her and her sister places.  She is super responsible and dependable.  I know I can trust her.  These facts don't matter on the day she goes out in the car for the first time alone.  I won't be next to her in the passenger seat helping her with directions.  I won't be there to remind her to give a buffer between her and other cars.  I won't be an extra set of eyes watching for someone to pull out in front of her.  She will have to see all those things on her own.  She will have to make the decisions on her own.  It doesn't matter how amazing and responsible she is, letting her go was painful, knowing there was nothing I could do to help her out there.  Any help I gave her had to already happen in our many rides in the car before this day.

As I write this, I realize this is parenting.  We only have our children with us for a moment.  The tools we give them, the lessons we teach them, the advice we impart on them only happens when they are with us.  Once they walk out the door to take on the world on their own it is too late.  I can't help them make wise choices when they are alone.  I can only pray that I have shared enough and been enough of an example that they will hear my voice in their head.  I can only hope they will pause and think before acting.  I can only wish they will put safety above all else.  

I can't always be there.  I can't always be the helpful, sound, wise voice in their ear helping them through each decision.  But when I am there, I will be that voice.  I will speak to them about my decisions and why I made them.  I will share my mistakes and tell them about the pain those mistakes caused.  I will reveal the choices I wish I had made, sparing me pain.  I will share my thoughts.  I will share my hopes for them.  I will be present when they are with me so when they are not they will carry that wisdom with them and be victorious when they are on their own.

I may always feel pain in my heart wondering and worrying about my girls.  I am thankful that I can take great peace in the fact that I gave them all I could and there is nothing more I could have done.  

Cherish the moments to teach and encourage your children when they are young.  Once they leave, those are the words they will remember and live by.

Winning the War

Most of life is lived in our heads.   I've seen two people approach the same situation.  One was ready to take it on, to thrive, to walk through the fire no matter what.  The other looked as if the situation had already beat them up before it had begun.

The story we tell ourselves drives our steps.  The dialogue in our head moves us forward or freezes our feet.  The conversation we have with ourselves determines whether we will rise above the situation or let the situation dictate our self-worth. 

I could have let the word cancer defeat me over 5 years ago.  I could have let the idea that something vicious was coming after me and simply lay down and wait for it.  Instead, I did what I knew to do and kept walking.  I kept going to work, I kept living each day to the best of my ability.  Those days looked different than the ones before or after cancer, but I never gave in.  I never stopped giving my best even if my best was only another step, another breath, another smile.

I could have let MS defeat me 3 years ago.  I could have thrown my hands up that yet another disease was after me.  I could have lay down and let it take me.  I could have held onto the pain of the earlier days instead of fighting to find out how to get rid of it.  I could have let my body grow weak instead of fighting through all the fatigue to make myself as strong and healthy as I could.  I could have let the difficult days rule my weeks instead of recognizing they were only days and they would soon leave and I would be back to good days again.  Multiple Sclerosis won't be leaving me.  I don't get to go through treatment to send it away.  It stays with me every moment of every day.  I could let the weight of its presence push me down, but instead, I fight it off and throw the weight off as often as I can. 

I could have let my herniated disc and back surgery knock me out over 4 months ago.  I could have quit.  I still could as I daily battle to gain my strength back.  I could have decided this was the last straw.  I have spent so much time fighting off weakness, building strength, paying attention to every thing my body does: what makes it thrive, what makes it fall apart, that I could have thrown up my hands and been tempted to finally give up.  I waited patiently for the pain to pass.  I did everything in my power to heal and gain my strength back.  When I wanted to quit and simply lie down and let it take me, I got up again and took another step. 

The physical battle is easy.  The moving, the walking, the fighting is simple.  The battle of the mind is not easy.  The battle to keep my mind from traveling into the darkest tunnels, from getting lost in madness and despair is the most difficult battle.  Yet, It is the battle that wins the wars. 

Next time the mountain looms ahead, take control of your thoughts.  Remind yourself of your past victories.  Remind yourself that you can only do what you are capable of doing.  No one expects more than what you can produce.  No one expects miracles.  Your best, your hundred percent, your greatest effort is all that is ever required.  Believe in your strength, ignore your weakness.  Believe in your power.  Accomplish what you can, celebrate and give yourself grace for what you can't.  Take control of your mind and everything will be a victory.

I see you . . . I hear you . . .

We've been watching Parenthood.  We just watched the episode called "I see you, I hear you."  The patriarch of the family started going to counseling and learned to say those words to his wife to practice acknowledging her instead of bulldozing over her with his large, looming personality. 

Whether we acknowledge it or not, we all want to be seen and heard.  We all want to know that we are noticed and not simply another fleshly form moving through this Earth. 

When I am driving down the road, being tailed by a big truck driving close enough to see the digital read out of the radio station on my dashboard, I do not feel seen or heard.  That person behind me is in such a hurry to get to his location that my car and myself are in his way. To him, I am not a person traveling home to my family.  I am a car that is blocking his speedy path to his destination.  I don't feel seen.  I feel like this gentleman has put his schedule above my life.  It is okay with him to put my life and the lives of anyone in my car in danger to keep his schedule.

In the moments when people around me don't pause long enough in their story to hear what I might add or wonder, I don't feel seen or heard.  It grieves me when others interrupt a story to hear their own story or their own idea.  I want to let my friend tell their whole story without interjecting my own thoughts. 

I want to be noticed.  I want those around me to see me, not who they think I am, but the real me.  I want them to let me be me, to give me space and time to go where I need to go, to share my ideas, thoughts and questions and be who I am created to be, not who they think I should be.

We like to hear ourselves speak.  We like to share our stories.  We like to share our issues.  In the midst of making sure everyone knows who we are, we need to remember to pause and let those around us be who they are.  We need to remember to pause and see and hear the people around us.  They are people like us.  They have busy lives. They have great moments. They have difficult times.  They want to be seen and heard too.

Next time you are around other people, take a moment to look at them.  Take a moment to wonder where that person in the green car is going, what might be happening in their life?  Take a moment to consider that more is happening in that person's life than what they show you. 

Our dog ripped her toenail off running for the ball last weekend.  She had to have minor surgery to repair it.  I had to take her to the vet.  It was "after hours" on a Saturday night.  It was expensive.  It was overwhelming.  I noticed the receptionist starting to treat me like I was rude.  I knew what was happening.  I was overwhelmed, stressed, tense and concerned about the cost and what caring for my dog meant for the next week.  She saw rudeness.  I couldn't get her to understand where I was.  She couldn't see me.

Take a moment.  See those around you.  Hear them.  You don't know the whole story.  The story may be this person is inconsiderate and rude, but it may also be they are having one of the most difficult days of their life and need someone to see and hear them.

Snow

I love the snow.  I know many people don't or they only do when they can look at it or play in it.

I love it all the time.  I listen to other's grumblings about it and how they like it in the mountains, but don't want it in the valley.  I listen as other's proclaim it can snow as long as it melts right after so we don't have to deal with it for long.

My birthday is in December and I grew up in an area that had regular snow.  We had snow days at school almost every year.  They weren't little snow days.  They were "no one can leave their home" snow days.  I vividly remember the year we went cross country skiing in our pasture.  We could step over the barbed wire fences with our skis.  I have clear memories of sledding down the hill by our driveway, driving or riding a snowmobile through my grandparents property and trying to stay on the sled that was tied to the back. 

My brother and I would spend hours playing in the snow together and come inside through our basement door.  We tromped with our snow boots over to the large wood stove and stripped off our layers to lay them by the warm fire to dry out.  We flicked the snow off our gloves and scarves to hear the water sizzle on top of the wood stove.  After playing hard in the white powder we enjoyed hot cocoa and snuggled up inside to get warm again.

I took my driving test upon turning 16 in a fresh six inches of snow.  I passed.  I loved it.  I still love driving in the snow.  I know it is difficult and it takes more energy, but it also takes more skill.  I love using skill.

The best part of the snow is its full blanket that soothes the earth.  The white blanket smothers the brown shades left over from fall.  In addition to the visual beauty, the snow makes everything quieter.  The tires and feet make a soft crunching sound instead of the normal pounding against the concrete. 

Snow falls slowly.  We can watch it fall.  It's slow speed reminds us to take an extra moment.  It reminds us to pause, to look and to breathe. 

I know driving in the snow can be scary and dangerous.  I also know that letting the white powder wash through our spirit can refresh us and remind us that every once in a while, it's a good idea to see the world through new eyes.  Once in a while, it's helpful to see, hear, and breathe a little more deeply. 

Next time it snows, try not to moan about it.  See it for the freshness it is and enjoy it.  It will soon melt again and you will have everything back the way it was.

Shape

Let your story shape you. 

Let your joy fill you up and overflow onto others.
Let your sorrow melt over you and accent your blessings.
Let your victories remind you of your magnificence.
Let your failures empower you to take another step.
Let your amazing moments fill you with gratitude.
Let your difficult moments teach you how to breathe and keep moving.

Let your poverty teach you wisdom.
Let your wealth teach you generosity.
Let your friends stand beside you.
Let your enemies fall behind you.
Let your home be a refuge.
Let your work be a ministry.

Let your life and all its bumps, curves, mountains, and valleys be an adventure.
Let your journey be ever-changing and exciting.
Let your views be beautiful.
Let your rest be refreshing.
Let your path be full of interesting turns.
Let your story make, mold and create in you a person who's life reflects lessons from a unique and special journey.

Weary

"Do not grow weary in doing good." 

Those words were running through my head this morning.  Paul, from the Bible says them.  He's trying to encourage people to do good amidst people who are ungrateful or who don't notice or who continually disregard what is right.  It can be tiring to feel like you are the only good and wise driver on the road or the only honest person or the only one who is responsible and thoughtful.  You aren't, but sometimes it is exhausting when you can't see other people doing good.

But, that isn't what I was thinking about.  The actual phrase I was thinking was, "Do not grow weary."  

Life can sometimes make us weary.  We wake everyday.  We eat breakfast, get ready for the day, often do the same or very similar tasks each day, encounter the same people, go the same places, run the same errands then end the day back in our beds.  We repeat our days over and over.  Sometimes, the daily schedule can make us weary.

Do not grow weary.  Find joy in what you create each day.  Find satisfaction in what you improve each day.

Many years ago, when my only job was homemaker, I struggled with the daily household chores: cleaning toilets, vacuuming, washing the same dishes over and over, wiping up the same fingerprints, making meals 3 times a day, and the list goes on.  I was reading or listening to something, I can't remember, and I found some encouraging words.

Everything you do, you are either creating something or making something better.

I hung onto those words when the weary would try to sink in.  As I was fixing dinner, I would think about how I was creating something.  I was mixing up different combinations of food to create a meal that would give my family energy and they might also enjoy.

While I cleaned the toilets, I thought about how I was making something better.  By taking care of my floors, my dishes, the windows, and wiping the crayon marks off the wall, I was making all those things better than they were.  Fortunately, the nature of a home is that it is always in need of becoming better.  Once you clean it on Monday, it will be dirty again on Tuesday.  

The nature of a family is they will always need things so the opportunity to create is endless.  In addition to creating meals, there are clothes, curtains, games, stories, and memories.

As you journey through your day today and repeat many of the things you did yesterday, do not grow weary.  You are creating and improving as you go.  You are affecting someone else's life with every task you do.  Life may sometimes feel like the same routines over and over, but it is a long journey where each step you take causes a ripple affect under your feet and affects everyone else on the journey around you.  

Be encouraged and not weary.  Keep your eyes open for those moments when you get to create and improve the world around you.