Category: Illness

The Expert Grumbler

4/24/2014

Each one of us is an expert grumbler, a professional complainer, a bonafide pessimist. We're so good at it that we can spill forth those negative words and complaints without having to give it a second thought. We're so adept at throwing around our misfortunes that we can do it without thinking, looking at life through muddy lenses instead of rose-colored glasses. It is just so natural.

And it is ridiculously sad.

I'm so guilty of this. Ask me three months ago what my ideal day would be and I would have told you that I would love an entire day in bed to read, write, and nap to my heart's contentment. Then came the doctor's orders: Bed rest and I'm upset at my predicament. I have been given the order to rest until the babies come and I feel like I'm in prison.

Oh, Lora, you are such a child still. God has so much pruning to do of your heart and soul.

And I can't spend dozens of weeks viewing my life like this. I can't be constantly looking at my life and feeling useless and scared. I can't. I won't. Because as Christians we are more than conquerors.

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.
Romans 8:37

We are to be more than conquers in whatever situation God places us. That means we are not just to survive, but to work with God to turn it all into examples of beauty and growth.

After praying about my grumbling attitude this morning I took a deep breath and decided to conquer and rise above the predicament life has placed me in. That doesn't mean I'm going to stop following doctor's orders. No, it means that I am going to grow with this and let it all begin to show God's blessings. No more grumbling. Time to practice a different skill--praise, thankfullness, adoration.

Jesus answered them, "Do not grumble among yourselves."
John 6:43

In what situation have you become an expert grumbler? Have you a job that seems to get under you skin? Are your children going through a difficult phase and you just want them older? Have you been injured or fallen sick and pain and inconvenience threaten to steal your happiness? Perhaps you've lost a relationship and life feels low and sad. I challenge you to be more than a conqueror. Don't just survive. Let your heart and life move you beyond disappointment so you can see how beautiful are God's blessings.

Photo by CGP Grey

0 Comments

Inspired by a Young Author

4/15/2014

2 Comments

A young woman recently contacted me, wanting to share her story on my miracles blog. Her life-story is beautiful. She had a rare sickness as a child and grew up with a strong Christian faith as she dealt with things that some adults would have trouble surviving. I asked her to write her story and introduce herself on my blog. I look forward to reading the Christian Fantasy Novel that she has published and am blessed to meet another Christian sister.

              I Prayed for the Words.
                    By E.J. Norris

I begin telling this tale by saying that we serve an incredible God; he who the mountains obey and he who parts seas is very much alive in all of us. Every day I praise him for all he has done for me.

When I was about ten years old, happy and carefree, my family and I were startled by the symptoms of a rare medical condition. On the night of the occurrence I was playing happily when suddenly my mouth filled with blood. Terrified and frantic, I rushed to the bathroom and spat into the sink, staining the pearl white red. But more blood gushed out faster than I could spit. My sister ran for my mother who was a trained nurse and managed to hurriedly stifle the bleeding. After she had calmed me she and my father got me into the car and we drove off into the night. I recall that we sang all the way to the emergency room,

Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say rejoice,

Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say rejoice,

Rejoice! Rejoice! Again I say rejoice,

Rejoice! Rejoice! Again I say rejoice!

Once surrounded by the white walls of the doctor’s office I was examined by the doctor on call at the time. We explained to him the stunning events of the evening and he was just as puzzled.

        “I can see she bled.” he said. Indeed it was obvious because of the stains left on my shirt. “But I can’t see anything wrong.”

There was no reason to keep me there so we returned home and I, in my child-like mind, was content to forget it. But my mother was not. After all, one doesn’t begin bleeding profusely just because. In our family, God is at the head and she prayed. She received a single, clear answer, “Call the dentist.”

She called my dentist and he said,

        “If it happens again, bring her in. We’ll leave the office open for you.”

Sure enough, what I was content to forget happened yet again. It was a winter evening, as the first incident had been, and I was eating dinner when that same ominous taste came. The second bleed was not as dramatic as the first, but just as troubling. We dropped everything and off to the dentist we went. I expected to sit and wait for awhile like we had in the emergency room, but we were ushered in immediately. X-rays were taken and the dentist looked, observing a shadowed area beneath my molars on the lower right side. Praise God that he realized that this mysterious ailment was beyond his expertise! He put up his hands and said,

“I’m not touching her. I’m sending you to an oral surgeon.”

I was listening, uncomprehending. Oral Surgeon? What’s that?

        It was another waiting room, another office, and another doctor to try and decipher the strange problem. But I know God brought us there because when he examined my case he was stunned and exclaimed that he had just finished a book on this subject that very day! Then, for the first time, the ailment had a name: Arterial Venous Malformation. For treatment he sent us to the expert, the author of the book, in Boston, Massachusetts. That began a cycle of treatment during which I leaned on the Lord as I continued going through school and coping.

        Then came the summer of 2011, the summer before my junior year of high school, I began seeking what the good Lord meant for me to do. I wasn’t sure. Others around me were planning for college and prosperous careers. At that point my greatest love was writing. It was such fun to invent worlds and people and that summer I wondered what would happen if I let God take hold of my pen. What if I prayed for the words? So, I prayed saying,

        “Lord, the pen is yours. What do you want me to do?”

When God leads amazing things happen and within just a few days a Christian based plot came to mind with a fire unlike any story that came before it. After two or three tries at a beginning it came to life on the pages of a large, black journal and it flowed as easily as water. Nothing slowed its progress and it was encouragement and help in my healing as the condition continued. While recovering from a surgery, rather than being

swallowed by my circumstances I waited in anticipation for the anesthesia induced fog in my head to clear. Every morning I would say to myself,

“I wonder if I’ll be able to write today.”

Now, as of April 1rst 2014, that story, The Mirror and The Sword is officially a published novel. How it has grown amazes me! I am nineteen years old and an author! The story continues, for The Mirror and The Sword is just the beginning.

        In sharing this with the world around me it’s my hope that God uses it to touch the lives of all who travel through its pages and if any doubts come to my mind about the future I will try to have faith like a mustard seed and keep in mind my favorite verse.

         “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”

                                                  Philippians 4:13

                          God bless you all and keep a smile on.

                                                                                 E.J. Norris

Biography

E.J. Norris was born on July 16, 1994 in Blue Hill, Maine. While hop-skipping between home school, Calvary Chapel Christian School, and Bangor High School, writing evolved from a mere hobby to an obsession. It was inspired by personal beliefs and a struggle through complex medical problems. Through its publication, the author hopes that the adventures of Tenny and Anna will encourage others through difficult times. E.J. currently resides in Orrington, Maine.

Find her book at
https://www.tatepublishing.com/bookstore/book.php?w=978-1-62902-118-8

Or Click on the link below to buy a paperback copy from Amazon.

The Mirror and the Sword

2 Comments

All Things for Good.... Even This

4/11/2014

0 Comments

Use it all God. Every hurt, Every heartbeat. I give it all to you. You use all things for good. Use me.

As I pray those words I can feel it, like a spring bulb emerging from the soil, life is coming out of the coldness and promising beauty.

Right now, my life is in a tender season where every hurt is deep and hard and every joy is brilliant as the sun.

God, in His great wisdom, has given me identical twin girls who now a battle a rare sickness before they are even born. And this has thrown my world upside-down. I left my husband in Russia to see the amazing medical professionals here in the United States. I left my daughter with my mother-in-law while I underwent surgery this week. I lie in bed now trying not to let every worry and doubt shatter my faith into pieces.

But, with every breath, I feel strength of a new and amazing kind burn within me. God is taking me to new heights, burning away the old and replacing it with a new kind of love and power that comes from Him.

And everywhere I look I start to see the changes and am amazed. I am closer to my mother-in-law, loving and appreciating her undaunted insistence to care for her family. I see and admire the strength and love of my sister who has taken me in to care for me even as she juggles her own full life. I thank God daily for the courage and trust of my husband who always knows just what to say to take away my worries and encourage me and I can feel his loving arms around me even though we are oceans apart.

Even when I had to go to Houston for surgery and every moment was a challenge just to remember to focus and breathe and pray, I was blessed with physicians, surgeons, and nurses who cared enough to hold my hand and even hug me in the hard moments. And my brother-in-law who has no experience with pregnancies and babies, took time off of work so that he could see me though the procedure, make me laugh in the hospital, and see me safely back home again.

I can see God smiling at me through every crack in this topsy-turvey world. His love shines out at me through a thousand souls who pray for us, hug us, love us, and offer a helping hand.

So, God, let me not see this as a time of pity, but a time for your power. Use it all for Your great good. I give it all to you.

Photo by Fountain_Head via Flikr

0 Comments

When Fear Threatens Faith

12/6/2013

0 Comments

I was doing her hair that morning. Putting all that baby hair into it's little top-knot when the fear rolled over me and I could think and feel nothing else. Somewhere, deep inside me, I knew God waited with a well of peace, but right then my thoughts raced. Who would take down her hair? What will she be like in a few hours after surgery? What will happen to my little girl?

An over-active imagination at this point only gives the devil amazing amounts of fuel for torment. And, I couldn't fight it.

I had to almost gag down my breakfast. But I had to eat. When would we get a chance to eat again? My husband and I knew that frustration and low-energy brought on by hunger would do nobody any favors on this day. The doctor had told us to meet him at the children's ward so that he and the surgeon could make a decision about what to do with my little Adela--remove her swollen lymph node or drain an abscess that they suspected was deep within the mass of tissue.

God, oh God, why can't I feel your peace? Is there any way to feel you, hear you right now?

I was drowning in the fear. And then I remembered someone telling me to read Psalms on that day.

So I did. And peace fought its way back into my heart.

I needed something exterior of my own pain to force an idea of God's grace into my head.

But it didn't end there. The whole day was a fight for calm. A fight for patience. A fight to retain faith that in every way God was reigning over our lives and His will would be done.

The pediatrician and surgeon looked Adela over and decided to go in first and try to drain what they though was an abscess. I dressed up in the gown and cap so I could be with her when she fell asleep and them my husband and I sat out in the waiting area. Waiting. Trying not to drown in the fear.

I knew in my head that God was there. I kept praying, thanking him for being part of my life, but the fear for my little girl threatened the strength of my faith. The faith in His promises.

Yet He was truly with us the entire time. The surgery went well and when I held her in my arms again, felt the deep breaths of her body and heard her childish babble, fear gave way to thankfulness.

Oh, God, I am such a child still, needing so many reminders of how carefully you watch over us. Forgive my doubts. Train me to forget my worries. Help me to always feel your grace deep in my soul.

0 Comments

Faith in the Impossible, Part II

6/2/2013

0 Comments

              The doctors had warned them that they only had minutes with their newborn daughter and David didn’t want to leave her side. The families came and went, each person wanting to see their precious miracle at least once before she was taken away from them. The minutes stretched into hours and then into days. As David returned to work, his prayers grew with hope. Liliana was eating and sleeping almost like a normal baby. The staff at the hospital eventually allowed her to come home with them but a hospice nurse was also stationed to care for her. They expected Liliana’s little life to end quickly.

                While their prayers became habitual, they never lost fervency and an amazing faith grew strong within David’s family. They had come to grip with the fact that all things were best left in the hands of their Heavenly Father. David thought back on his life the way it was only a few months before and shook his head. He had left behind a world of senseless living that had hurt his wife and family. He had thought then that life was about making money and doing whatever pleased him. But, in the wake of his transformation he had more strength and peace than he had ever felt before. It was a great gift to come home to his wife each day, kiss her, and hug his two precious daughters. The older girl, Diana, was so patient with their new family member even through all usual drama that accompanied the life of a newborn. The hospice nurse eventually gave up and left them after Liliana turned two months old.

                Liliana was a beautiful baby. She looked around at the world with her soft brown eyes and smiled with melting sweetness when she looked up at her parents. They had long since decided that their little girl would be given all the love they possessed for as long as God willed them to have her. But, as Liliana drew near to completing four months, he and his wife hoped they would get to keep her much longer than the doctors predicted.

                David and Elena decided to get away to the lake with family for the day. It was nice to get out into the sunshine and the sweetness of caring friends and family. But, when they left Liliana’s side and in the care of another, something happened. Liliana hadn’t been away from her mother and father hardly at all, and not having them near threw her into a frenzy of crying. When the crying wouldn’t stop they took her to the emergency room. This time the doctor that looked her over told them that they couldn’t let her cry. Her body was having too much trouble getting oxygen to her brain. There wasn’t a way to repair it. As a parting remark the doctor told them, “You knew you wouldn’t have her for long. Considering her developmental problems it is amazing that she has lived to this age.”

        They doubled our efforts. Liliana wasn’t given an opportunity to cry. Diana was a vigilant older sister, always doing her best to entertain the little baby and her parents soaked their little girl with love. Fourth of July came and Liliana was eight months old. Their little miracle baby hadn’t given up on life. They thanked God for his goodness and marveled at the way their family was growing. Not only did they now have two beautiful daughters, but their family was stronger and their marriage happy. Looking around at friends and other families around them, they felt truly blessed. The fireworks they watched at the family gathering made Liliana smile and laugh, but later that night she started crying frantically. By the time Elena had Liliana in her arms again it seemed to be too late. Her face was turning purple. Something horrible was happening to their little girl and they couldn’t stop it. By the time the ambulance arrived she had stopped breathing. Even after they resuscitated her the EMTs were worried about her oxygen levels. They knew something wasn’t right with the little baby and decided to fly her to Amarillo.

                It was the longest drive of David’s life. There was only room on the helicopter for one, so Elena climbed in and David took Diana in the truck. About half-way down the road Elena got a hold of David on the cell phone and told him that Liliana was stabilized and that they doctors were looking at her. As soon as he got to the hospital he was asked to sign forms giving permission for surgery. There was a massive build-up of fluid around her brain. They might be able to save her with a shunt, a small tube placed so that the liquid would drain safely into her stomach.

                The surgery worked. Another miracle had happened. Their baby which was not supposed to have lived at all, had survived major surgery. And for a while life with Lilianna returned to ordinary. The swelling around her head went down and her eyes looked normal. They took extra care with her, doing their best to prevent a self-inflicted injury or infection. They knew their baby wasn’t made as all other babies were. But they also knew that God had crafted her life for a special purpose and they could already see the impact of it on their home and family. The shunt worked fine for six months until the infection set in.

                There was vomiting and bleeding. The shunt started to come through the skin. Even with morphine the pain continued and their little baby couldn’t stop crying. Eventually the trauma of it all did its awful work and Liliana could be kept alive no longer. “We could keep her alive artificially,” one doctor told them. But David and Elena knew that it would not be a real life for their little one, so torn by her infirmities. They held each other close, watching monitors give off the signs that they were losing her fast. “We need to let Diana say goodbye.”

                Through it all they never stopped praying. Though they prayed for another miracle, they thanked God for every second that they had already enjoyed their beautiful child. They cried. Diana wasn’t ready. Her prayers weren’t quiet, but said out loud as she pleaded, “God, please save Liliana. Please keep my baby sister alive. I’ll take care of her. I don’t care if her head isn’t ok. I’ll take care of my baby sister.” Her words were those of a child with complete faith in her Heavenly Father and as she came into Liliana's room the monitors changed dramatically.

                Liliana was coming back to them.

                Doctors and nurses streamed into the room and the family was ushered outside. The change in her vitals was amazing and sent them into frenzy as they took on another fight to save her. When the nurse came to get them, she was smiling. Liliana had been stabilized to everyone’s amazement. She had died for the second time in her short little life and came back to them yet again. God’s angels had her safe in their arms.

                It took two weeks of hospital care for Liliana to recover from the infection and another surgery to replace the shunt. Liliana celebrated her first birthday as a miracle child. Therapists come to see her, full of hope as they work to help her develop her mind and body. David thanks God each night. His Heavenly Father has given him so much.

0 Comments

Faith in the Impossible, Part I

5/25/2013

0 Comments

"Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for You are with me..."
Psalm 23:4

                All David could do was pray. He and Elena had just sat in yet another doctor’s office and the man who examined their unborn child in the ultrasound told them the same thing. The baby wouldn’t live. She had no skull forming. She was too tiny. A dozen different things were wrong with her little body. If Elena even carried her to term she would live for only seconds.

                God, have mercy, David prayed. God, please, save our baby. Give her chance. If the doctors were right, David wouldn’t even get a chance to hold her and kiss her before she passed away and the truth was tearing his heart out.

                He hadn’t even been aware of how strong his love was for his unborn child, his wife that carried her, and his daughter who waited anxiously to become a sister. But when he had first heard those dreaded words it had felt like the world was crashing down around him. “She isn’t developing normally. There is a problem with her skull.” He had swallowed and stared, terrified, at the tiny baby on the screen.

                That had been the moment that turned his life around. He dropped everything that Sunday and took his family to church. Friends called him over for another wild party but he stayed home and wrapped his arms around his wife. He didn’t want to drink. He didn’t want to fool around.

                They got better insurance and started calling other doctors. They drove for hours to bigger cities with high-tech ultrasound machines and specialists, but the diagnosis became bleaker as they got closer to the day that Elena would deliver their child. They didn’t know how to talk about it with their daughter, Diana, but they knew she sensed the worry.

                It was only at church or when David was praying that he had ease from the anxiety and fear. He could feel God reach out with strong hands and wrap him in his peace. If it hadn’t been for that, David might have gone crazy.
                The day came. Elena went into labor a month early. David and his family didn’t stop praying for second. And, though they prayed for God’s mercy, they also prayed for strength to be able to hold themselves together if they lost their baby.

                There were many doctors and nurses there to battle to keep her alive. The delivery room was so crowded that David couldn’t stay. He held his wife close for a few seconds and told her, “I love you. It is going to be ok.” As he left his eyes darted to the incubator which stood in anticipation for their baby. In the waiting room he held Diana’s hand and prayed. It felt like time stopped and the only things left were his thoughts as he begged God to be with his wife and their baby. God, help us.

                A nurse came walking swiftly towards him. David swallowed and stood up. She briskly addressed him, “Are you the father? You need to come now.”

                “What happened? Is the baby alive? Is Elena ok?”

                “Just wait, we are going to her now.”

                The nurse wouldn’t answer anymore questions. When David entered the room the first thing he saw was Elena. She was crying, sobbing, and her mother was holding her. David felt like he just knew it then. They had lost her. The baby hadn’t survived.

                “What happened?” He asked Elena, tears making his voice come out hoarse and forced. “Is she alive?”

                Then, to his disbelief, Elena nodded and gestured to the incubator. There, underneath the plastic, being prodded and examined was a newborn baby girl. She was crying and the doctors were exclaiming in disbelief, “Her skull appears to be fully formed.” “Those lungs are healthy enough. Hear how she is crying?”

                Finally, another doctor reached in the incubator and lifted their girl out. He placed her in their arms and said, “She doesn’t need that incubator. She needs your love.” She quieted as they held her.   David could feel it then, God peace and goodness reaching out to them and giving them that miracle. They were holding their baby girl.

                As the doctor wrote something out on the chart he remarked, “You need to hold her close now. She won’t live long. Minutes. Maybe hours.”

                But, though those words hurt, David could only thank God for letting them have that moment. “What do we name her?” Elena asked through happy tears.

                David smiled, “Liliana.”

0 Comments

Hannah's Angel

5/1/2013

0 Comments

                Hannah flinched every time a sound drifted her way from the cabin. Birds tormented her the most. When their throats warbled into a song she could feel her heart grip her and then sigh with relief when she realized it was only a robin or blackbird or some other flighted creature. Those birds reminded her of her nightmare, as did the moaning of the trees during the night. The sun shone bright and merrily today and she took no joy in it. Her baby was dying.

                The last of the wash was in the bin and Hannah hurried over to the twine stretched between the old trees. As she shook out the little white diapers and Henry’s large work shirts her mind twisted and stretched its usual course, trying to find its way out her tortured maze.

                She should take little Lovely to the doctor no matter how much money it costed. Henry would curse her and be angry. He would. Would he beat her? She would take it. Wasn’t it worth it to have her child? Lovely grew weaker daily though she couldn’t tell why. All the old remedies and plants had no effect on the little child. Only six months old. She should be making little babbling noises and rolling about on the floor with her toys these days, but she did nothing except her pitiful crying that made Hannah’a heart die as they increased in sounds of pain and baby’s body grew thinner. She’d heard the sounds before--three other times. The last time her little boy had made it to only four months.

                Hannah wanted to pray, to reach out and ask God for help, but she felt worthless. She was weak. If she had stood up to Henry her babies would be alive. A better mother would have swallowed her fear and taken her babies to get help. But she hadn't. Now Lovely was dying and she had still done nothing. Hannah shook her head as she hung the next shirt out and pertly clipped it to the twine. Her heart was only full of anger when she thought of each baby she had carried in her belly, full of hope for their future and then had to watch them be buried away in their silent graves. Her eyes shifted to the three little crosses. That was her fault. She had no right to ask God for anything. Perhaps he had cursed her babies as well for her laziness and fear.

                The wind gusted up and the laundry floated upwards and brushed Hannah’s cheeks. She hadn’t noticed her own tears until that moment but the wet clothes seemed to lift and gently wipe them away. It was at that moment that a bird lifted its voice, sweetly and swiftly in the air. It drew her eyes to the cabin, her whole being listening for another, more desperate cry.

                Hannah’s scream caught in her throat. A winged creature, massive and brilliant like the white of the sun was landing on the rafters. As she stared at him she was thrown into an expanse of beauty that no mortal meets without bowing to a great Truth. An angel.

                An angel. It was there for only a moment or so, though the world stopped around it and the birds grew quiet and the wind stilled. Then he lifted his great wings and in a silent flight left again.

                In his wake Hannah knew. Her throat choked with a sob and she dropped the rest of the sodden clothes to be soiled on the ground, sprinting to the cabin. The air that greeted her as she opened the door was quiet. She was at Lovely’s cradle in moments and took up the lifeless little body into her arms.

                It was the same scene--she, standing by the cradle, holding a dead child still warm from a life that had been unfairly shortened. Each time before the sobs that wracked her had gripped her in the pain of grief so completely she hadn’t been able to breathe and she had endured it alone. But this time the tears fell gently. Hannah brushed a sun-worn cheek against Lovely’s delicate skin and her sad heart was struck with wonder. Peace filled her and tempered the sadness. Had God heard her tormented thoughts? Her little Lovely had been so tiny, so unknown to the world, a child known only by her yet when her health waned God sent a mighty angel to come gather Lovely’s soul.

                She pressed the little body close to her and for the first time in a very long time, Hannah let herself be held in God’s presence.   And she prayed.

0 Comments

Miracles Happen Everyday

The Expert Grumbler

Inspired by a Young Author

All Things for Good.... Even This

When Fear Threatens Faith

Faith in the Impossible, Part II

Faith in the Impossible, Part I

Hannah's Angel

Author

Archives

Categories

Lee un blog en Espanol