New Year Goals

Before the start of every year, I take time to reflect on the past year and make a list of goals for the next. Some of my goals are very specific - either I achieve them or I don't. Others are not so clear cut and reflect areas in which I want to grow. These are the goals I tend to write again year after year (rewriting them a little each time) because I'll never really "arrive" until I reach the end of my life. It can be humbling as I see goals that were full of good intentions, but busyness or life's circumstances caused them to fall by the wayside. On the other hand, it is so encouraging when I see the goals I did achieve or areas in my life where I've come so far. This practice keeps me from getting stuck. It helps me live with purpose amidst all the surprises or hardships a year may bring. And as I review my list from time to time, I'm able to bring some focus to my messy life.

So here it goes...

I'm very good at staying busy and doing a lot of things. I'm very good at pushing myself beyond my limits and working under pressure. I am driven and I don't make excuses. I am efficient and productive. I make things happen. But at the end of this year, I have come to realize that I'm tired of just being busy. I want more. So for the first time in my life, I have a theme for the year: Do less to accomplish more. 

1. Spend extravagant time with God everyday.

2. Dig deep into the Word of God. For most people (and certainly for me in years past), this means reading through the entire Bible in a year. But over the next two years, I plan on reading the Bible slowly, smaller portions each day, so that I can meditate on it more.

3. Seek more opportunities to be light in a dark world.

4. Pursue opportunities to intentionally love well. Also, have coffee/tea/lunch with people more.

5. Spend less time on my iPhone or watching television.

6. Read less books...and read bigger books!

7. Learn a concerto and add two major works to my solo piano repertoire. (This is a big deal when you're battling lupus.)

8. Get every room in the house organized and functional.

9. Buy less and live more generously.

10. Blog at least two times per month...even when especially when I'm not feeling well. (This past year, my goal was to blog at least once a month.)

11. Launch something big. (I know this is vague. But in my journal, what I have written here is very specific. I'm just not ready to, well, launch it yet.)

12. Study Japanese.

13. Learn Latin.

14. Do yoga every week. (In past years, I wrote, "Hike every week," or "Exercise regularly." This past year, lupus really took its toll and this is the one physical activity I think I can commit to even when I'm having a flare.)

15. Learn songs on the ukelele.

My Year In Geeky Books

I love to read. There are bookshelves and piles of books in every room of my house. I spend my free time in bookstores. And I carry a book in my purse everywhere I go. So when I say I love to read, I mean that I have an addiction that runs deep because deep in the core of my being, I am a geek. And I know that I am not alone. Some of you are geeks, too. So if you're a geek like me, or if your New Year's resolution is to read more, or if you're looking for more books to add to your reading list, this geeky list is for you!

For the science geek: 
Physics of the Impossible (A Scientific Exploration into the World of Phasers, Force Fields, Teleportation, and Time Travel), by Michio Kaku
Though I love to watch scientific documentaries, I don't typically read science books. In fact, this book is so different from the books I typically pick up that reading it was almost like an escape for me. Kaku's language is accessible and he has a way of stretching your imagination and changing the way you look at the "impossible."

For the Asian studies geek:
Japanland (A Year in Search of Wa), by Karin Muller
I did not expect much from this book. In fact, I only read it because my husband told me I should. But once I started reading it, I couldn't stop. This memoir is full of observations, bits of history, and old Japanese stories. It is beautiful and painful. And by the end, I was deeply moved and wanted to move to Japan.

For the art geek:
Karsh: Beyond the Camera (Selected photographs of Yousuf Karsh with introduction and commentary by David Travis)
I picked up this book at the National Portrait Gallery after I fell in love with Karsh's photograph of Aaron Copland. Karsh's ability to capture the character of his subjects is incredible, and Travis' commentary digs into the artist's psyche in an intriguing way. I will come back to this book again and again.

For the history geek:
Night, by Elie Wiesel
In this autobiography, Wiesel gives a vivid picture of the horrors of the Holocaust and human nature. Dark. Moving. Intense. Powerful. Poetic. A beautiful work.

For the biblical studies geek:
The Case For the Psalms (Why They Are Essential), by N.T. Wright
This is an intellectual and passionate look into the Psalms. I have read the Psalms over and over again throughout my life, but this book challenged me to make the Psalms a more integral part of my daily life. I don't think I will read the Psalms the same way again.

*Bonus for the biblical studies geek:
How To Read the Bible As Literature...and get more out of it, by Leland Ryken
Written by an English professor from Wheaton College, this is a book for improving your methods of hermeneutics and Bible study. In other words, this book will help you understand the Bible better.

For the geek with a lot of heart:
Kisses From Katie (A Story of Relentless Love and Redemption), by Katie Davis
Katie left behind her family, home, college, boyfriend...and moved to Uganda. She is a foster mother to over a dozen girls and she started an organization that sponsors hundreds of children to be able to go to school. Her life and love for God is incredible. This book will challenge you to live for something greater.

For the geek who wants to change the world:
Courageous Compassion (Confronting Social Injustice God's Way), by Beth Grant
Eye-opening, convicting, and profound. Drawing on her experience with starting Project Rescue, an organization that helps bring people out of human-trafficking, Grant gives insight into a very real darkness in the world and what needs to happen. The wisdom she shares is informative, practical, and Spirit-filled. She delves far deeper than quick fixes and helps the reader think long and thoroughly.

For the literature geek:
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, by J.K. Rowling
I know, I know. After mentioning numerous Christian books, this is probably not the path you were expecting me to take. But before you cry, "Anathema!" and declare that I have turned from God and gone over to the dark side, keep reading. My all time favorite books are C.S. Lewis' Chronicles of Narnia, but the Harry Potter books are now a close second. The Christian themes in The Deathly Hallows are unmistakeable. These themes can be seen in the movies, but they are much more pronounced and blatant in the books. In fact, two Bible passages - Matthew 6:21 and 1 Corinthians 15:26 - are quoted and have an important place in this book. Rowling has been recorded saying, "I think those two particular quotations he finds on the tombstones at Godric's Hallow, they sum up - they almost epitomize the whole series." The only thing is, to get to The Deathly Hallows, the last in the series, you have to read the six books that come before it in order for it to make sense. But if you are willing to take the time, Rowling's gripping storytelling makes it well worth it.

Merry Christmas!

This is my third Christmas with lupus. Life has turned out very differently from how I envisioned it, but I am loving the journey. 

This year, we decided we would open presents on Christmas Eve. I love opening presents with family. I love the tired feeling from all the laughter and telling stories. I love the mess all over the living room after the presents are opened. I love the moments when we can just be together.

So whatever life has handed you, I pray this holiday season will be full of beautiful music, new memories, and extra moments to spend with those you love most dearly.

Merry Christmas!

Courage (Reprise)

I'm going through a season of courage. It's not as great as it sounds. In fact, I don't feel courageous at all. I choose to be. And to be perfectly honest, sometimes courage feels just plain awful.

Lupus gives me a lot of opportunities to be courageous. Sometimes, I don't want to be. Sometimes, I wish I could just hide from the world. Sometimes I wish I could pretend that I don't have lupus and that my life was like how it was before. But that would be a lie. I do have lupus. This isn't life before lupus. This is life with lupus. And I choose courage because I don't want a pretend life. I want a real life. 

And that's what I'm dealing with right now. I've chosen to not just survive, but to live. Right now, my life is very hard and full of hard decisions. But I don't regret doing what is hard because I know that in the end, it will be worth it. I've learned to see past this moment. Past today. I've learned to see long. To see what matters most. I don't want to wake up twenty years from now and mourn what could have been. So I make hard choices. On some days, I mourn the life I used to have. Some days end in tears. But, it's okay because everyday,  I live. And twenty years from now, I will look back on today - pain and all - and know that it was worth it.

Courage

Courage is never easy. If it was, it wouldn't be courage.

Courage is hard.

Sometimes, courage means facing your fears. Sometimes it means choosing to try again.

Sometimes it means doing the right thing. Other times, it means admitting you were wrong.

There are times when courage means doing something alone. And there are other times when courage means being together.

Sometimes, courage means being honest, or different, or ordinary. And sometimes courage means having dedication or perseverance.

Sometimes it means being silent. Other times, it means using your voice or helping others find theirs.

I am learning that sometimes courage is being strong in ways others consider to be weak, or even admitting you are weak when you can no longer be strong.

Sometimes courage means saying words like,
     "I'm sorry," 
          "I forgive you," 
               or even, "I love you."

Sometimes courage is beautiful. Other times, messy.

Usually, courage is invisible. You can't always see when someone has courage. You usually just see whatever comes after courage - and that's the stuff people want. The stuff that comes after courage. But they want it the "easy way." There is no easy way. Not if you want to live. I mean, really live.

And that's what I want. I don't just want the stuff that comes after courage. And I don't want easy. Easy isn't worth it. I want a life that is full. I want a life that means something. I want a life that is lived courageously. 

My Week: A Poetic Summary

Too much too much
too much that
and too much
another that
then there
then more
then this
then that
and what
and oh I forgot
and but then another
and did you hear about
and then more more more
and it keeps going until I feel like I'm going mad
and I just want to get my head above the water so I can breathe
and then comes Saturday.

Selah.

A Good Day Redefined

I emerged from a pile of blankets and my bed today. This is a good day.

Three days ago, I had to cut my work day short when I suddenly felt sick. How did I--a lupus patient who is accustomed to working despite pain and sickness--know that I was too sick to work? I threw up. I can work through insurmountable pain. I can work when my joints are too stiff to move. I can work when I am so fatigued I can barely stand. But once I throw up, it's over. Three days ago, I threw up eight times. And it was over. Eight times over.

The next day, I stayed in bed under a pile of blankets. My body was too sore to move. My mind was too hazy even to read a novel. Yesterday, I woke up with hopes that I would be able to catch up on some work I missed. I was wrong. And I never strayed too far from the safety of my pile of blankets and bed.

Today, my body is still tired and my mind is still cloudy. (It's taking me much too long to write this short entry.) I am not ready to return to work yet. (Thank goodness it's Saturday!) But today, I emerged from the pile of blankets and bed all by myself. And for a person who can remember a time when this would have been impossible, a day like today doesn't seem so bad. In fact, a day like today is a pretty good day.

To read more like this, check this out.

On Behalf Of Someone

There are moments that feel like destiny. Those moments when you do something because, as crazy as it may seem, you know it will matter to someone. You may never know their name or see their face, but that doesn't make them any less real. You know they are out there somewhere. And you know that your voice or good deed can make a difference for them. It might even change their life. 

I recently wrote a letter to someone who just received a lupus diagnosis. I don't know who I was writing for, but I knew I had to write it. It was one of those moments. It was a very emotional moment, bathed in tears as I relived a season of overwhelming uncertainty and pain. But it was also a beautiful moment because I knew what my voice would mean to someone who is going through what I experienced two years ago.

And it was even more beautiful because it wasn't just my moment. So many people became part of it as they gave strength to my small voice by spreading my words farther than I alone could.

So on behalf of someone, thank you. Thank you for helping my special wish come true. But more than that, thank you for taking a moment out of your day to be part of something bigger than yourself and doing something that can bring hope to someone you may never know. 

To Someone

Dear friend,

I don't know you, but I feel so many emotions for you in this life-changing moment. I feel sad with you. I know this is not what you expected for your life. This was not part of the plan. This was not the way things were supposed to play out. And yet, here you are. I am sad because I know all of the fear and heaviness you feel. I know how deeply your heart aches. I know the questions that are flooding your mind. I am sad because I know the obstacles and challenges that lay ahead. I am sad because I know that in this moment, it feels like your dreams are crashing down. And I so wish I could take all of this away from you and make it all better.

I don't know you or what your personality is like. But I do know that if you haven't already, one day you will ask, "Why?" It is an honest question. It is also a hard one. And unfortunately, I don't know that there is any answer that can truly satisfy. So even though you will find yourself asking that question time and time again, I want to tell you to not dwell on "Why?" Because if you do, you will find yourself at a dead end. Don't dwell in a dead end. Dwell where there is life. Ask life-giving questions: What now? What do I have to live for? What mark can I still leave in this world?

Today marks the two year anniversary of my lupus diagnosis. Two years ago, when I got off the phone with the doctor who gave me the news, I had no idea the immensity of what was in store. The past two years have been so incredibly hard. But my life has continued. Hardship has not in any way taken the good from my life. If anything, it has helped me to see good in places where others cannot and feel hope in ways I never did before. I feel hope for my future. And I feel hope for you. Yes, in this painful moment, there is hope! I feel hope for you because even though your life will be hard, your life is not over. There are still joys to experience, celebrations to have, and beautiful memories to make. Your life will be hard. That does not mean your life will be bad. Choose to dig deep and see the good.

I feel hope for you because as big as this diagnosis is, there is a God who is bigger than your diagnosis. He is not distant. He is near. He hurts with you. He loves you and His love never runs out. He wants to hold you in His arms. He is good and continues to be good when nothing else in this life seems to be. He gives strength to the weary. He can bring peace in the midst of the biggest storm. He can make beauty out of the chaos. He can bring joy in the midst of the greatest pain. He can bring light to the deepest darkness. Hold onto Him. Hold onto Him when your body hurts too much to move. Hold onto Him when you feel alone. Hold onto Him when it feels like you have nothing left to go on. 

I may never have the opportunity to see your face or learn your name. But I pray for you. I pray that you would be full of courage, peace, joy, and strength. And I pray that when you feel like you have none of these things, that you will have a community to support and encourage you. I pray for your family as they walk with you on this journey, for them to experience strength and encouragement as well. I pray that as lupus dramatically changes your life, that your life would be abundant and full of purpose. And I pray that you wouldn't just be a survivor. I pray that you will be a warrior who is more than a conqueror.

- - - - -

I wrote this for someone. I don't know who they are, but I know they are out there somewhere. The anniversary of my lupus diagnosis is 2 days after my birthday, and this year I have a special lupus birthday wish: I want as many people as possible to share this post so that the person I wrote this for will have the opportunity to read it. Please help my wish to come true by sharing this on your Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, etc. 

#lupusbirthdaywish

Why I Write

When I was in high school, I took a writing class. When the semester began, I thought I was a natural. I was naturally terrible. My writing teacher saw how terrible of a writer I was, but he also saw what I could be. I remember him telling me, "I want to turn you into a writer. I want you to be able to write the way you play the piano." This was a struggle for me. Having immigrant parents, the English in my home was utilitarian and often awkward. From an early age, I had learned to express myself with music. I didn't need words. I just needed an instrument. My writing teacher taught me that I could be more. He gave me words and helped me find my voice. I have hidden this voice in the pages of the many journals I have toted around over the years. In a way, journals have been a safe place for me. They are where I pour out my soul, completely unfiltered. They are where the creativity and messiness of my life collide. They are for me. Only me.

When I found out I have lupus, I did what anybody else would do. I googled it. Words like, "Lupus destroyed my life," "I am all alone," and "I had a good life until I got lupus," filled my computer screen. I read stories of broken dreams and husbands leaving their wives because they couldn't handle the weight of being married to someone with a chronic illness. I saw angry, bitter, and hurting words. And my heart began to break. Early on in my diagnosis, I made a decision: I will again find my voice and not hide it in a journal. I will confront a world of despair with words of hope. I will make my life with lupus mean something. This is why I write.

So, to my high school writing teacher who refused to let me stay the way I was, thank you. I hope I have finally become what you always told me I could be.

Autumn Saturday

Fridays nights, I lay on my couch, fatigued from the wear of the work week. Last night was no exception. This wasn't even an exceptionally busy week. But I was exhausted nonetheless.

This morning, I woke up to a slightly chilly, autumn Saturday. I lit candles in my living room and sat cross-legged on my couch with a book and a Bible. I love the start of weekends and I love autumn. I love being able step out of my hectic routine and find moments of solitude and rest. I love being able to sit back and let my mind drift to where it wishes.

So for all of you who have had a busy week and are tired, may you find rest for your body and soul. I hope that you curl up with a blanket and get lost in a good book. Or that you put on a sweater and comfy shoes and go on an adventure. I hope that you have the chance to spend time with someone you love or have a long phone conversation with someone you miss. Or, if like me you are an introvert living an extroverted lifestyle, I hope you finally get a chance to have a moment of solitude. Whatever you choose to do, I hope you wave a wonderful autumn Saturday!


If you would like to read more about solitude, you can read more here, here, here, and here.

TBT: Two Years Ago

Two years ago today, I woke up unable to move. My husband had to lift me out of bed and help me with every step of my morning routine. I was completely helpless and in agonizing pain. As the day progressed, I would get more and more exhausted from the effort and pain of every movement. This was not the first of such days. This had been going on for about two months. And every day that passed, I was more exhausted than the last. I had lost 20 pounds in less than two months and a third of my hair had fallen out. I had seen three doctors at this point. None of them could figure out what was wrong with me. I thought I was dying. I found little reason to believe otherwise.

Two years ago today, I was dreading the doctor's appointment I would have the next day. I was tired of the endless doctor's appointments. I was tired of the tests that yielded no answers. I was tired of waiting. I was tired of being tired. My doctor would ask me, "On a pain scale from one to ten, ten being the highest, how bad is your pain?" I would say, "It's at a nine," being too afraid to admit I was at a ten.

Two years ago today, I didn't know that at my doctor's appointment the next day, I would hear worry in my doctor's voice for the first time. I didn't know that my doctor would send me to yet another doctor who would do a biopsy on the skin on my scalp...the biopsy that would give me the answer I had been crying out to God for. And after these doctor visits, I would write in my journal:

Still no relief from the pain...I am exhausted. I saw two doctors today. They are close to having a diagnosis. Right now I'm waiting for test results. The second doctor took a sample from my scalp and left me with stitches. The first doctor told me I have arthritis in my feet. He narrowed down the possibilities...I don't like some of the words the doctors are saying. But I'm too tired to be stubborn. God is bigger than any diagnosis.

Two years ago today, I didn't know that my days of wondering would soon be over and my life would dramatically change. I didn't know that the following week, I would experience the most overwhelming feeling of relief as one of the doctors would call me to tell me I have lupus. Yes, when I got off the phone, I cried and thanked God for providing a diagnosis. The waiting and not knowing was finally over. I could finally move forward.

My Lupus Birthday Wish

My birthday is coming soon and the 2nd anniversary of my lupus diagnosis is two days later. I have a very special blog post saved for that day. I wrote it for someone. I don't know who they are, but I know they are out there somewhere. This year, I have a special birthday wish. I want as many people as possible to share my October 9, 2014 post so that the person I wrote it for will have the opportunity to read it. Please help me by returning to my blog on that day, reading my post, and sharing it on your social media page.

#lupusbirthdaywish

Blind Home Defense

It's the last day of a three-day weekend. I had a long list of how I would spend my time, but instead I've spent most of the time in bed. Sick. Yuck. It's just the common cold. I'm pretty sure I know who I caught it from. They got over it in a day. I am not so lucky. That's the reality of lupus.

For someone with lupus, something as simple as the common cold is not so simple. Because people with lupus typically have to take immunosuppressives to calm down their over active immune systems, it can be very easy for them to get sick. And when they do, it can take them much longer to recover than most people. 

The scary thing is that something as small as a common cold can even cause a serious lupus complication. Allow me to illustrate: The immune system is the body's home defense army. When an invader (sickness) comes along, it's the home defense's job to attack. But a person with lupus' defense army can't tell the difference between the invaders and the citizens. It's almost like they're blind. So when the sirens go off alerting of the presence of invaders, the defense army just starts attacking. Blindly. Hopefully they get lucky and attack only the invaders. But because they can't tell the difference, they may accidentally attack some of the citizens as well. And who exactly are the citizens that can fall victim to the blind defense army? It can be anyone: kidneys, lungs, liver, joints, skin...No part of the body is off limits when the home defense is in attack mode.

And this is why I don't like getting sick.

The Dreamer's Prayer

A little over a year ago, I wrote a prayer in my journal. It's a stubborn prayer. The kind of prayer you pray when you can't shake the God-sized dream you've been holding onto for years. Yesterday, I thought of that little prayer. God has been answering that prayer with invisible footsteps. There is still so much that is unknown, but some of God's footsteps are starting to look a little less invisible.

What would happen if we choose to never let go of our God-sized dreams? What if we choose to pray stubborn prayers? Could we change the world?

The Dreamer's Prayer

God,

Give us creative ideas and dreams, 

the resources and anointing to make those things reality,

and the favor to make them useful for Your Kingdom. 

Amen.

Lupus and the Hand Cream Quest

I am on a quest to find the perfect hand cream for me. This may not be a very noble quest. It's quite mundane. But because my work requires I take great care of my hands, it is also quite important. It is also a lot more complicated than it probably should be. There are so many too many things that need to be considered:

- It needs to be extremely moisturizing to keep my hands from cracking and my joints from getting stiff from dehydration.
- It can't leave much of a residue so that I don't leave a greasy film on all the pianos I play throughout the day...Ew.
- It needs to be free of synthetic fragrances so that it doesn't irritate my eczema or cause me to have a resurgence of discoid lupus.
- It can't contain immune boosters (such as echinacea). I know immune boosters are supposed to be good for you, but unfortunately they are extremely harmful for people with lupus.
- It can't contain ingredients that can cause an increased sensitivity to sunlight as people with lupus are typically photosensitive as it is.
- It can't contain any ingredients that could negatively interact with the medications I take.
- It can't have any weird smells that would leave me nauseated.

After months of buying tiny-sized tubes, leaving stores with handfuls of samples, meticulously reading lists of ingredients and researching every ingredient I'm unfamiliar with...the quest continues. There have been (and continues to be) many other quests: face wash, make-up, sunscreen, shampoo...Every product has a long list of considerations. Considerations that are not on the radar for most people (read: store clerks and well-meaning acquaintances). Considerations that probably don't make sense to people who don't walk in my shoes. It's quite the ordeal.

Lupus and Work

I am nearing the end of what has felt like a very long week. This is my first week working three jobs--three very energetic jobs. I'm the piano accompanist for a local high school's choirs (all five of them), a private piano instructor, and an adjunct piano professor at a university. It's Friday morning, and I am completely exhausted, in the midst of a lupus flare, and feeling a cold coming on. A couple nights ago, my husband voiced his concern: "Are you going to be able to handle all of this?"

According to the Lupus Foundation of America, only 31% of adults with lupus work full time. I am blessed to be in the minority. I cherish my ability to work. But to be perfectly honest, I don't work because it is easy to. I work because I am passionate about what I do. And there is a high cost for my passion. My medical bills stay high, I live with constant pain and fatigue, and my social life is not very existent. My husband also pays a price. (One day, I will let him share his side of our lupus story on my blog, but here I will just say that it has not been easy for him to take care of his wife while working full time and being in grad school.)

I am not alone in the struggle to work while battling lupus. This thought encourages me and challenges me. It tells me that what I am doing is not impossible. It tells me that I can still live a full life in the midst of great difficulty.

So for those of you who live this struggle (whether you have lupus or take care of someone who does), this is my prayer:

May God give you strength for each day.

May He fill your soul with hope, joy, and peace.

May He fill your mind with creativity and focus.

May He make your work productive and efficient.

May He make your rest refreshing.

May God put people in your path who will encourage you, support you, and help you. 

May you know life and know it abundantly.

Amen.

Not Just An Inconvenience

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience," she said. "This is more than just an inconvenience," I replied. A minute later, the phone conversation ended, and I was thrust into emergency mode. It wasn't what I would consider to be a true emergency. It was not a situation that could not have been helped - it certainly could have been. Because someone did not do their job well, I was left to pay the consequences. The next day, my morning routine that prevents me from having a lupus flare would be taken away and it was too late to make an adjustment. I knew my body well enough to know the pain and fatigue that would certainly follow, the work I would possibly be unable to do as a result (impacting my income), and the expensive medical procedures that would probably be needed to recover.

The issue is not the inconvenience. The issue is that the consequences I have to pay are completely disproportionate to the size of the person's mistake. 

And so here is the lesson I hope you take from this: Consider your actions. When you have a job to do, do it well. There are consequences when you don't. You may never see them. You may not be the one to whom those consequences come. But they will come and someone will have to pay them. And the price they pay may not be worth the size of your mistake. There are enough troubles in the world. Don't be the cause of suffering. There are so many better things to cause. Cause productivity. Cause synergy. Cause joy. Cause relief. Cause good things.

Anything

I began this summer by praying "God-I-will-do-anything prayers" in the quiet of a monastery. (You can read about that life-altering journey here, here, here, and here.) I have continued to pray these prayers throughout the summer with a completely open and willing heart. Anything has taken the shape of many small things: removing my cell phone from my bedroom, giving God extravagant time every morning, reading the Bible from beginning to end over the summer, and trusting God by obeying His quiet voice with no hesitation. But deep inside my heart, I have known that a day is coming when God will lead me to anything, and anything will not be so small. It will be huge. Crazy huge. At the start of this journey, my "anything prayers" were gut-wrenching. But as the summer progressed, these "anything prayers" have become less intense. Not because I mean them any less, but because they have become easier to pray. (It's amazing how easy it is to pray scary prayers and follow God into the unknown when you have already given yourself completely to Him and have nothing left to hold back.)

Yesterday, anything started to ache in my heart. Today, my heart is torn wide open and all I want is the anything God wants of me. The anything God wants me to do...that only I can do. I have no idea what lays ahead, but I feel like my life is being turned upside down...or right side up. I feel as though there are people who are praying for me who have no idea it's me they are praying for. They are praying for a problem, a seemingly impossible situation. And God, in His omniscience, is looking at me and saying, "Get ready. Anything is about to happen."

A Happy Book for Crappy Days

Some moments in life are horrible, discouraging, draining. Some days (or seasons) are full of them. They leave you wondering about your life and doubting yourself. Some leave you reeling in pain, overwhelmed by a flood of emotions too deep for words. Some days, you need to remember that not all days are like that. Some days are amazing. So amazing you never want them to end. Full of uncontrollable laughter, beautiful memories you never want to forget, moments you wish could never end.

And that's why I made My Happy Book of Happy Things for Crappy Days. Long name, I know. So I refer to it as My Happy Book. It's a sort of scrapbook-in-progress where I stuff wonderful little things: meaningful cards and notes from people, inspiring quotations, and tiny trinkets from special moments in my life. It reminds me of what I have accomplished and what I can accomplish. It reminds me that there are people in my life that love me. It reminds me that no matter how hard a season is, life is still good.

In many ways, I am presently in a period of waiting. I have experienced frustration, discouragement, self-doubt, pain, and I have told my husband "I quit" more times than I can count. (I never really quit, though. Something about saying it helps satisfy my frustration for a brief moment and then I go right back to not quitting.) But several weeks ago, as I was looking through some old emails to try to find a document, I stumbled on a beautiful email someone special wrote to me before I moved back to the States after living in the Philippines for a couple years. She wrote about so many beautiful memories and told me how my life and work there made an impact. She wrote about her prayers for my future. It has been almost five years since that email was written. And as I read it in my house in America, I cried so many tears. Tears of remembering so many good things. Of remembering who I was who I am. Of remembering where I am headed. Of remembering that this season will pass and another season of adventure awaits. I think I'm going to print this email and put it in My Happy Book. I'm sure another day will come when I will need to read it again.

If you are having a "crappy day" and need some encouragement, maybe this will help: A Word (not mine) Of Encouragement.

Exhausted Body, Happy Heart: Traveling with Lupus

I went on an amazing week-long vacation to DC earlier this month. My mind is still on a high from wandering all over my favorite city. I love being on vacation. I love going to museums, hiking in new places, and exploring through quirky shops. My body, however, does not. When I go on vacation, my body thinks I'm being tortured as it has to work harder to try to keep up with all of my adventures. At the end of each day (and the next morning...), my body is screaming with arthritis and fatigue (and a little bit of nausea). And halfway through my vacation in DC, I was already exhausted.

It's not an option to have a vacation from lupus, but it is very possible to have a great vacation with lupus. Here are some ways to keep lupus from spoiling your summertime vacation:

1) Rest before you go. This takes a lot of careful planning and forethought. If you wear yourself out tying up loose ends at work and running a dozen errands to get ready to go on vacation, you won't have much left when you actually get there.

2) Take breaks. Many of them! Sit every chance you get. Benches at parks and museums. Coffee shops. Anywhere! And while you're sitting there, take advantage of the opportunity to soak in your surroundings.

3) Drink a lot of water. Staying hydrated is a great way to give you energy and help keep your body from breaking down.

4) Wear sweat-wicking, sun-protective clothing and stay in the shade every chance you get. This will keep you cool and give you extra protection if you are photosensitive.

5) If you're with someone, let them help you. Most of the time, I don't ask for help because I don't want to be a burden. But I've come to realize that my husband (my partner in world exploration) would much rather help me than see me struggle. While we were in DC, he did a lot of little things like opening water bottles for me and holding my hand (pulling me along) when we were walking uphill. It's also important to make sure you communicate when you are getting tired or need something. They can't help you if they don't know.

6) Don't forget to take your meds! If I miss just one dose of my meds, I get fatigued and nauseated very fast and it takes me days to recover. Being in a new place can throw off your routine, but make sure you don't forget the basics. (Set an alarm on your phone if you have to.)

7) Eat nutritious foods and stay away from trigger foods. Everybody wants to eat exciting food when they're on vacation. But make sure to be smart about it. Nitpicking about every ingredient might not be an option, but you can choose to avoid/minimize the "bad" stuff and eat things that help make you feel better.

8) When you have the choice, always pick the easier option. Elevator or stairs? Elevator! Walk or ride the Metro? Metro! Do anything you can to conserve your strength so you can use it when it really counts.

9) When your body is wearing down, don't force yourself to keep going. If you need to go back to your hotel and call it a night earlier than you were planning, do it. Resting so you have energy for the next day is always a better option than having to spend an entire day in bed.

10) Don't get emotional about any adjustments you have to make because of lupus. It is what it is. You don't have to let guilt, shame, or self-pity be a part of your vacation. Be thankful for this amazing opportunity you have.

11) Give your body time to recover when you get back. Don't expect your body to be able to dive full force into work, household chores, daily routines the moment you return home. Your body (and mind) may be a bit slower and require a little time to get readjusted.

Do whatever you need to do to stay healthy and  to keep your body from shutting down. And don't forget to enjoy every good moment! Life with lupus is definitely hard. But, having lupus does not mean you can't live to the fullest. You can still have a full life. Life with lupus just means you have to live in a different way.

A Moment in a Museum

I'm in Washington, DC for the week and I am so ridiculously happy. I love this place. My husband and I lived here for a couple years early in our marriage and we love to dream about coming back. So anytime we get a chance to visit, we are are like two kids in Disneyworld. Disneyworld, except with museums instead of rides and monuments instead of people dressed up as Disney characters.

I spent today exhausting myself at the National Portrait Gallery. Every time I visit, they have new temporary exhibits, so every time I come back it's a new experience. Today, I was captivated by one temporary exhibit featuring the photography of Yousuf Karsh. (I thought of trying to write a fancy description of Karsh and his work, but then felt completely inadequate. So if you're truly interested...Google it.) One particular photograph mesmerized me: an image of Aaron Copland. Copland was an important American composer who fascinated me from an early age. I remember hearing one of his pieces, Cat and Mouse, at a piano competition and then begging my piano teacher to let me play it. I remember being moved as I heard my professor give a lecture on his life while I was in grad school. And then, here I was with this photograph in front of me. Copland seated at a grand piano with one of his manuscripts and his eyes staring at piercing the camera.

I felt like he was looking directly at me. It was as though this photograph was a bridge between times and I was given the opportunity to spend a moment with Copland himself. Standing in front of his picture, I was transfixed. I didn't want to leave that spot. I fell in love with that portrait. I wanted to take a picture of it on my phone, but signs clearly indicated that no photos are allowed for this exhibit (and they had plenty of guards around to make sure no rules would be broken). So I stood there, staring. I soon became very aware of the crowds of people around me, squeezing in to see this picture of a man they probably knew nothing about. My hypersensitivity won out and I sadly walked away.

The gift shop was just steps away, so I went in with hopes of finding a postcard with an image of my new favorite piece of art. Nothing. I so wanted to be able to look at that picture again and again, whenever and wherever I want. But some things are meant for just a moment.

I returned to that spot three times, trying desperately to ingrain the image into my mind. But even now, mere hours later, I find that beautiful image slipping away. And I will probably never be able to see it again. And even if I do, I will never be able to relive the experience of seeing that work for the first time. That moment is gone forever. 

I have many moments I wish could never end. These are the special moments that make me want to keep living. They are beautiful, precious, inspiring. And they get overshadowed by a myriad of moments that are hard, painful, or mundane.

I am a pianist. It's not a hobby. It's my profession passion. I love my work art. I also have lupus. There are days when it is physically impossible to practice. There are other days when I come home from a day of rehearsing in tears from the pain and exhaustion. I go into every performance with the knowledge that it could be my last. This is a hard way to live. But I love it. I love it because I love all the moments. I don't let them slip away unnoticed. I let them mean something. I live them - truly live them. All of them.

Help Me Decide!

I'm an on-the-go-and-always-busy kind of person. And I absolutely need my morning tea to make it through the day. (I used to be a coffee person until coffee started to hate me.) So in the mornings, while I'm mad rushing to get ready for a full day of work, I'm also boiling water for tea. Then before I head out the door, I quickly pour the water into my KeepCup with a bag of loose-leaf earl grey tea, and off I go. (If you haven't heard of KeepCup, you can check it out here.) I don't like using disposable cups because I start to feel guilty about being so wasteful and not being green, so I'm a big fan of the KeepCup. The problem is, between working multiple jobs and dealing with lupus, dishes don't get done every night, or every other night...They pretty much get done when they get done. And with an increased work load waiting for me in the fall, it's time to start thinking about getting another KeepCup. 

I decided that I want my next KeepCup to sport some purple for lupus awareness. This is a big deal since I hate the color purple so passionately. But my passion for lupus awareness wins out. I designed a couple of options for my next KeepCup, but I just can't decide! So I decided I would leave the choice to my readers. What do you think?

Option A screams purple.

Option B is more subtle.

Lupus, Scriabin, & Overcoming Limitations

As I type this, I have two Hello Kitty band-aids on my right thumb to cover two tiny holes where my doctor injected me with cortisone. My left hand is in a splint to keep my left thumb from getting as severely damaged as my right thumb had gotten. After my right thumb stops aching in a few days, I will have the joy of wearing splints on both hands. Look out, world! I'm going to look awesome! Cortisone injections in my hands have become a normal thing for me. You would think I would get used to them, but I don't. My doctor has become quite accustomed to the little, atonal songs I sing to distract myself while he sticks needles into me. Yesterday, I asked my doctor if there was anything we could do to keep me from having to get these injections so often. He responded, "Well, you're my only patient who's a pianist, so..." I have two choices: I can stop playing the piano and reduce my number of cortisone injections each year, or I can keep playing the piano and continue needing the injections. Both options are painful. I would rather pick the option that lets me have a life.

...

Nocturne in D-flat major (from 2 Pieces for the Left Hand, Op. 9), by Alexander Scriabin

There is something about this piece that is all about overcoming limitations. If you listen to it, you probably wouldn't realize how different it is from any other piece. But when you see it performed live, it is an amazing experience. The pianist's right hand (the hand that is closer to the audience) doesn't touch the keys even once. It is a piece for the left hand...solely the left hand. When I first saw it performed, I sat there thinking, "I can't believe all these sounds are coming from one hand." The fact that this piece has such a great limitation doesn't make it any less brilliant or virtuosic.  In fact, it's limitation makes it all the more so.

Horrible pain in my right hand drove me to start working on this piece. As I have delved deeper into its intricacies, I have fallen in love with it. It's not just a piece I can play when I am in pain. It's a reflection of my life: The process to learn this piece is stretching, difficult, slower, and takes a lot more thought. I can't practice it for many hours a day (as I do for other pieces) because I don't want to push my arthritic left hand beyond it's limit. Did I mention that I'm right-handed? I'm not just limiting myself to one hand. I'm limiting myself to my hand that is more limited! It's the kind of piece you take day by day. Whatever my hand can handle doing that day, that's what I do. No more. No less. The result is beautiful, eye-opening, inspiring. For me, it elegantly laughs in the face of the word impossible.

I have limitations. They are very real. They make my life very difficult for me and my husband (who spends more time than his share taking care of me). I have to do many things most things in my life differently from everyone else. My hands are small for a pianist. And then when you top that with systemic lupus (which carries with it things like arthritis, tendonitis, and carpal tunnel syndrome), playing the piano becomes impossible harder nearly impossible. But when people look at my life, I hope my limitations are not what they see. I hope they don't think, "Eh. Not bad for someone with limitations." I hope they see something beautiful. A masterpiece. And if they realize what kind of limitations I face, I hope they think, "Impossible! I can't believe someone with those kinds of limitations can do all of that! How does she do it?"

I hope they ask. And I hope people never stop asking me...because I love the answer so much. But I'll leave that for another day.

For now, I have some aching hands to take care of.

Principles for Life's Many Pieces

This is a follow-up to a little piece I wrote last week about how I arrange the pieces of my life with lupus. (You can read it here.) I am full of dreams and a purpose to wake up every morning. Lupus didn't change that. But lupus did make my life harder. I can't leave anything to chance. I have to live on purpose. From the moment I wake up, I have to live intentionally and use whatever strength and time I have wisely. So what does living on purpose look like?

Pick a system that works best for you...
...not necessarily what works best for someone else. People use to make fun of me. Ok, they still do. Especially since I'm a pen and paper person. Not a calendar-on-my-smartphone person. Whenever I pull out my planner, people say things like, "I can't believe you have an old school calendar with paper! You're so behind!" But I'm not. When I have a task to accomplish (or two or a few dozen), I stay ahead and rarely get behind. And even when I get behind, I know exactly what I need to do to get back on track. The people in my life know they can always depend on me no matter what life brings my way. It works for me and it works for the people who depend on me. And when life changes, my system changes. Do what works for you. It's your life. You're the one who has to manage it.

Be realistic about goals and deadlines. 
Give yourself deadlines. It can be really hard to motivate yourself to get something done if you don't have a deadline. As much as possible, create weekly deadlines, not daily deadlines. You never know what kind of emergency a day will hold, so weekly deadlines allow for some margin in life. Just make sure to not procrastinate until the end of the week! This brings me to my next point...

Don't assume you will have time to complete something "later."
Don't procrastinate because "later" may not come. If you have time and energy to do it now, do it now. I recently had a flare because I forgot to take my meds. It's rare that I forget, but it happens. The good thing is that I didn't have anything pressing because I was diligent to work hard in the beginning of my week. So when the flare came, I had the freedom to spend a day on the couch. If I had procrastinated, I would have had to choose between neglecting my business and getting the rest I need or taking care of my business and hurting my body. Because I didn't procrastinate, that is not a choice I needed to make and I was even able to participate in a couple of social events over the weekend.

Note: If you don't have time to complete what you wanted when you wanted, don't just put it off for an unspecified "later"  or beat yourself up with guilt. Neither of those options is productive. Instead, get proactive AND give yourself grace. Make the adjustments necessary to get it done. Readjust and figure out when you can do it.

Prioritize what is important. 
When I'm having a lupus flare, sometimes dishes and laundry need to take a back seat to family time. Sometimes one project must give way for another project. Sometimes one dream must temporarily give way for a bigger dream. When I'm so sick and in need of some extra rest, I can often talk to my boss and ask, "What do you need me here for the most? What can I miss without causing the group to suffer?" When I ask questions like this, my superiors have the assurance that I won't drop the ball on what needs to happen, and I have the assurance that I am not putting my well-being on the line for my job.

Plan for imperfection, flares, rough days, emergencies, etc.
If you plan for a life that is always smooth, always perfect, always easy, then you are planning for something that isn't real and setting yourself up for discouragement. Life is messy and unpredictable. Expect it to be.

Create momentum.
When you feel overwhelmed, start with small tasks to get a feeling of accomplishment and create momentum. Some people like the opposite method: Complete the largest tasks first so the remaining tasks seem less daunting. Either way, start with something and shrink your to-do list.

Pray. 
People tell me that I am so strong and full of energy. I'm not. Lupus makes me weak. Very weak. I feel like a walking billboard for the passage in the Bible where God said, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness," and the apostle Paul said, "For when I am weak, then I am strong," (2 Corinthians 12:9-10). So when my body hurts so much that I don't see how I can possibly get out of bed, I pray. When I am overwhelmed with a to-do list that is ever growing or a task that is way bigger than me, I pray. When I am terrified that I may fail (or feel like I am in the midst of failing), I pray. When I am overwhelmed and feel like I am drowning, I pray. And I have never regretted a single prayer. This can seem like it's too simplistic, like a waste of time, even completely unrelated. But for me, prayer is the most important thing I can do all day. So what kind of things can you pray for? Pray for God to lead your steps, even when the way seems dark. Pray for God to help you be productive and efficient as you begin each task. Pray for the ability to accomplish what needs to be done. Pray for strength, for resources, for joy.

These are practices and principles I chose to live by even before I had lupus. And honestly, I don't think it would be possible for me to accomplish anything today if I didn't choose to live this way. It's not something I decided on a whim and mastered in a day. It was a long process that took years. And I'm still learning and messing up. But I'm a lot farther along than when I started. So I would encourage you to start the process of arranging the pieces of your life. You'll have days that feel like wins and days that feel like failures. But don't give up. You have one life. Live it on purpose.

Arranging the Pieces of My Life...with Lupus

Living a full life is hard work. Living a full life with a chronic illness is harder work. At any moment, I can have a flare and my body (and mind) can shut down. For the past couple of years, I've worked two to three jobs at a time...while sharing a car with my husband in a town where public transportation is not practical. And lupus adds a special sprinkling downpour of complicated to my life. I love what I do. My body doesn't. When I make a commitment, I don't know what kind of obstacles or surprises I will have. And I always have them. Last fall, I had surgery. In the spring, I got very sick (being surrounded by high schoolers does not bode well when you're taking immunosuppresives during flu season). So how do I stay on top of my life when so many people are depending on me but my body is so unpredictable?

I am a time organizing queen. That's right. I'm a queen. Or maybe not. I forget.

I organize like crazy. I view every item on my to-do list, every responsibility, and every appointment as a puzzle piece. My life has a lot of pieces. Too many pieces. And the pieces don't arrange themselves. They must be arranged deliberately. So how can you arrange the pieces of your life? Here's how to start:

Before the week begins, decide and write down what you want to accomplish by the end of the week. This means you have to know what your priorities are and what's most important to you. If you aren't sure, there are a lot of wonderful resources out there. Maybe I can blog about it. But that's not on my list of priorities this week, so I'll save it for another time. (See what I did there?)

Next, using your planner/calendar, decide when the best times to accomplish those tasks are. If you're doing this on paper, use pencil because you may have to rearrange later. Feel free to rearrange as the week progresses. Some days and weeks are harder than others, so give yourself a lot of grace. If you have to rearrange again and again because your body is struggling or life got complicated, that's ok. You'll probably still accomplish more than if you didn't plan at all. Something is better far better than nothing!

When possible, try to group "puzzle pieces" according to categories for productivity. If you have multiple tasks that require you to drive to a certain part of town, plan to do those things in one day so that you're not making multiple trips. If you have multiple tasks that require use of your computer, try to accomplish as many of those tasks as possible in one sitting. When you have limited time and energy, the key is to figure out a way to work as efficiently as possible. 

Don't evenly distribute tasks throughout the week. Put a heavier load in the beginning of the week so that you have more room to work with later when unexpected things come up throughout the week. Procrastination is one of my worst enemies. If something is truly important to me, procrastination can steal it from me. So I don't usually push things back unless I have a really good reason like I'm in the hospital or my arms won't move. It happens. It happened.

Leave time later on for make up work. If that time ends up being open, you can get extra rest (Yay!) or get ahead on work for the next week.

Don't budget time minute-by-minute. 
Budget time according to segments in the day.
     Examples:
     morning, afternoon, evening
     before classes, after classes, after work
This is for tasks (such as doing the dishes or working on a project), not appointments or events (which have a set start time or schedule). I used to organize my time minute-by-minute, but it was impossible to maintain, the rigidity made me feel pressured, and I ended each day feeling inadequate. On the other hand, when I think in terms of segments in the day, it's easier for me to wrap my head around all that needs to be done and I can be more flexible for whatever life may throw at me.

Budget time for rest. You will be more productive, efficient, and creative when you are well-rested. I know my body well enough to know that when I fill up an entire week with activity, I will be unable to work the next. So I actually write "Rest" in my calendar. Each week, I make sure I have at least one chunk of time dedicated to rest. And if someone asks me to do something during that time, I say, "I'm sorry. This is the only time this week I can rest. And if I don't, I won't be able to work next week. Is there another time or day that will work?" You don't even have to tell people that you're resting. You can simply say, "I already have something scheduled at that time."

May all your puzzle pieces fit a little better and may your life be a little fuller!

A Simple, Quiet Space: Epilogue

Ever since my amazing journey at the monastery (you can read about it here, here, and here), life looks very much like it did before. I still teach and practice piano. While school is out, I'm working on projects and slowly organizing the house we moved into last year. I still spend more time than I like each week organizing all the pills I take for lupus (up to 16 a day). I still lug around a ginormous bag filled with too many books everywhere I go and watch TV with my husband in the evenings.

Same old, same old. But not quite. My days are nuanced in ways they weren't before. And one small change in particular went a long way.

The day I returned from the monastery, I traded my iPhone for an alarm clock. Well, not entirely. I still have an iPhone. But instead of using my phone as my wake-up alarm, I use a tiny alarm clock to wake myself up in the mornings. It cost $5 and is so small it doesn't even have a radio. And where is my phone? Charging in the living room. It's not allowed in my bedroom at night. This one small change led to thousands more. My phone (e-mail, text messages, FaceBook, Twitter, Pinterest, Instagram...) is no longer the first thing I see when I wake up and the last thing I see before I sleep. On my night stand, I have a Bible, The Book of Common Prayer, and a devotional. In the mornings, when I feel lupus the strongest and my body is too stiff to get up, these are the things I grab first. Though my first thoughts range from "Where's my iPhone?" to "I need to brush my teeth," and to "My body hurts and I have too much to do today,"...my first action is to surrender all of these things to God and pursue what matters most. Each morning, my mind races in a million different directions. And each morning, I will my mind to turn to God.

It hasn't been easy. I am breaking habits that are deeply imbedded into my being and starting new habits that the enemy of my soul doesn't want me to have. At first, everything else on my mind felt so urgent and loud (almost yelling). The high-pitched beep beep beep of the alarm clock made me and my husband grumpy. It felt awkward turning to God when my mind was so hazy and I hadn't brushed my teeth yet. But I chose to stubbornly pursue what matters most. Each morning, all the "other stuff" in my mind yells a little softer than it did the day before. My husband and I are getting used to the morning beeps. And I've come to accept that God loves me so much that He will take me just as I am--morning breath and all.

I don't feel like I'm moving mountains in my new morning routine. (Maybe I am and I just don't know it yet.) I haven't had any moments that were full of intense emotion and prophetic words from God. But I'm less frantic now. My day is filled with a calm I didn't have before. Things that would have caused me anxiety don't have that power over me anymore. I loved my work before, but now I enjoy it even more and have a stronger sense of purpose when I do it. My husband and I argue less and talk more about meaningful things. (And now that I just typed this, we're probably going to have an argument about something ridiculous tonight. Just kidding. I hope I'm just kidding.) I feel safer letting God search the little crevices of my heart and fill me with dreams so big they scare me. And instead of feeling shame because I'm not where I thought I would be by this time in my life, I see the significance of what I'm accomplishing now and feel like I'm on the verge of something wonderful.

So this is my life. One small, five-dollar change. I have all summer to make it stick before I go back to working three jobs in the fall. And who knows what kind of stories are waiting for me ahead...

A Simple, Quiet Space: Day Three

[This is the conclusion to my last couple of posts. What follows are journal excerpts from my third day on a spiritual retreat at a monastery. You can learn more and read my journal excerpts from the first two days here and here.] 

Today's Agenda:
   1. Pray and reflect.
   2. Book of Common Prayer devotions before breakfast and lunch.
   3. Read the Bible (Isaiah 43).
   4. Look over Anything.
   5. Spend time outside.

8:21 am.
I feel the world pulling me again to rush. When I woke up this morning, the first thing I did was to shower and prepare for the day, I did not turn to God first. That was a mistake. But I turn to Him now and I still have several hours before we leave this place.

9:17 am.
Like manna, no matter how much I pour myself in God's presence and God pours in me, the next day I must do it all again.

9:46 am.
Yesterday, I feared that I would forget. I will. I will forget again and again. I will keep forgetting because that is what we do on this side of Heaven. There is no shame in that. One day I will stop forgetting because the sight of His face won't let me forget. Until then, I need to keep returning to the simple, quiet places so I can remember again.

11:07 am.
I am thankful for this place. A sacred place full of quiet and full of lessons. A place where it is easy to find the presence of God. A place that gently forces you to experience God's goodness. A place that makes you better because it makes God bigger. A place that makes you homesick for Heaven.

12:30 pm.
During lunch we met a man who just arrived here this morning. He asked us questions about what we do here, how this place works, whether we ever talked to the monks. His wife passed away last fall and he came here for whatever this place can offer him. His journey here is just beginning. My heart is so broken for him. God, please work miracles in his life while he is here. Let him find healing, comfort, peace, direction. Touch the places in his heart that are hurting, that are searching for answers. Let him leave this place full of strength and joy. Do for him what only You can do. Thank You for bringing him here. And thank You for making him part of my journey here. Amen.

12:45 pm.
Lord, I am ready for the world now. Please go with me. Amen.

A Simple, Quiet Space: Day Two

[This is a continuation from my last post. What follows are journal excerpts from my second day on a spiritual retreat at a monastery. You can learn more and read my journal excerpts from day one here.]

Today's Agenda:
   1. Ask God dangerous questions.
   2. Book of Common Prayer Daily Devotions (breakfast, lunch, dinner, end of day).
   3. Read the Bible.
   4. Read Anything.

7:26 am.
Simplify. This word has been stuck in my head for many weeks (months?). This morning, I felt led to do it. I simplified my agenda - both from what I expected of myself to accomplish here before I came and from what I scribbled in a tiny notepad last night. But I won't get as much done...on paper. Maybe God will be able to accomplish much more in me. This practical call to simplify goes beyond my time here. This morning, even before breakfast, I wrote another note in my tiny notebook. I will give God the 2 days after I return home in which I will read nothing except His Word. I will not completely return yet because God will not be finished speaking to me when I leave this place. I am walking into the mystery. I am becoming the person God made me to be.

8:08 am.
The drive for productivity is not equivalent to obedience to God moment by moment. With lupus, there are so many times when my body doesn't allow me to get things done (I feel unproductive), so when I am feeling well (or at least better than not well) I try to compensate by being extremely productive. I daily judge myself based on my productivity. How productive am I being today? This is not the path God wants for me (us) to take. I should daily judge myself based on my obedience to God. Have I taken the time to hear God's voice and have I completely walked in obedience to Him? It isn't that God doesn't want me to be productive. He does. But His call is for obedience. And when I am completely obedient to Him, then I am the most productive for His Kingdom.

8:58 am.
There is a freedom in solitude and simplicity. Here, I can be free from the chains of want, of noise, of wastefulness, of comparison, of busy-ness. I can focus on God untethered here. How can I take this freedom with me when I reenter society?

9:10 am.
...and complaining. This place is free of complaining. I am content here. Content and thankful.

9:49 am.
Anything...

...God, is there anything You want me to give up or anything You want me to start doing?...

...God, I will do anything. I will...[This is one of those places where the words are between me and God and NOT me, God, and the internet]
...I will stop giving You snippets of my day and start spending extravagant time with You.

10:51 am.
I am realizing that in this place, God isn't trying to tell me to "do something." He is completely changing me. When I return home, I won't just be someone with a task from God. I will be a different person.

11:16 am.
Anything...Live for God's glory:
   - Blog for God's glory.
   - Pray for my husband for God's glory.
   - Play piano for God's glory.
   - Teach for God's glory.
   - Clean for God's glory?
   - Love people (and show them love) for God's glory.

[This prayer and commitment to do anything got very real. Very painful. Very difficult. A lot of tears. A lot of words that will stay in my journal.]

1:16 pm.
I choose to live for things I cannot see yet.
I don't want to miss anything God has for me.

2:15 pm.
Dangerous question: God, where do You want to take my plenty and pour it out? I will do anything.

6:20 pm.
In this simple quiet place, I can hear from God and experience rest...I am not perfect here, but I am closer to God. I want to bring this with me. To have moments--no matter where I am--when I can enter this simple, quiet place where I can encounter the glory of God. A different reality. A more real reality.

7:40 pm.
The sun is starting to set, the bell for the compline just rang, and I am feeling sad that this is my last night here. My heart is not ready to go back. I don't want to lose what I have here. I'm scared I will go back and forget. God, please don't let me forget! Please don't let me go back. Please make this change stick. Please work a miracle! Please don't let me go back to my old ways. Please make me different. Completely different from the inside out. Full of Your glory. Full of Your power. Full of You. Take my fear. Take my mess. Take my inadequacies. Take all of me and turn me into something new. Something beautiful. Something that radiates your glory.
          selah.
                       Amen.

8:08 pm.
Oh, the transformation--the journey--from yesterday to today! I came empty. Now I am full to overflowing. I came wanting to quit everything. ("I quit" became my motto the last few months.) Now I feel like I'm about to embark on an adventure into the unknown. I came feeling spent. Now I feel ready to give again. This is the reward for spending extravagant time with God. When you give extravagantly to God (however meager that is), He will give extravagantly to you (How limitless that is!).

A Simple, Quiet Space: Day One

I was physically and mentally exhausted from an over-packed life that just kept going and going...So we went to a monastery. That's right. A monastery. With monks. I love going there. It's a quiet place. You don't have to take a vow of silence when you are a guest there. People often talk a bit during the meals and in the public areas. But there is a freedom from the constant noise that is impossible to escape in daily life. My husband and I each stay in our own room with a bed, chest of drawers, reading chair, and writing desk - everything you need for a spiritual retreat and nothing more. (There is a bathroom too...It's not that bare!) Bells ring throughout the monastery to signify the monks' prayer times and services (the first rings at about 3:30 a.m.) and there is a schedule for meals (prepared by the monks), but you have the freedom to follow your own schedule. I went with an agenda:  Seek God and listen to His voice. It was a simple agenda, but not an easy one. In that quiet room, there was no hiding from God, no piece of my heart that was left unchallenged. It was a journey--the kind that once you go on it, there's no going back to the way things were.

 I had a few supplies to help me:
   - a study Bible
   - a very thick journal and a lot of pens
   - a book: Anything, by Jennie Allen
   - another book: something by Kierkegaard (which didn't get read at the monastery at all)
   - The Book of Common Prayer (I am not Anglican, but sometimes I like to use this book as a tool to help me pray when I can't find the words on my own.)

What follows (in this and the next couple blog posts) are excerpts from my journal. (I filled over 15 pages in less than 3 days.) This is not a researched, theological treatise or a display of spiritual strength. These words are raw and many were written through tears and deep emotions. I left out the parts that I feel are just between me and God, but I wanted to give you an opportunity to be a part of my journey, to learn some of the lessons I learned, and ask some of the questions I asked.

DAY ONE
We just arrived here. I quickly ate lunch and felt awkward in the silence. It will take a while for my soul to slow down and find rest in the quiet...

Today's Agenda:
   - Pray the Daily Devotions from the Book of Common Prayer.
   - Read the Bible.
   - Read Anything.
   - Quiet my mind so I can hear from God.

1:05 pm.
I have no words to pray. This is embarrassing to me. I am so mentally worn out that no words come. Yet I know that God hears what I cannot say and knows what I am too numb to feel.

1:31 pm.
God, I will do anything...

3:49 pm.
...I want to let go of everything that is keeping me from God and completely live for Him. I want to know Him intimately. Not like my "glory days" back in high school or college. I want to know Him now--as a 32-year-old and everything that entails. I want a life that is marked by His presence. I want God.

4:32 pm.
Doing many things does not compensate for pursuing your One Thing.

8:04 pm.
Today, I am making a decision to surrender everything to God and committing to do ANYTHING for Him. Anything. I have absolutely no idea what "anything" is. No idea what lays ahead. God hasn't told me yet. I'm choosing to be obedient. Completely obedient with no hesitation.

8:25 pm.
What is the "anything" God wants me to do for Him? I am stepping into the unknown. I am starting to feel comfortable in the silence. Time to start asking God some dangerous questions...

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This is the first in a series. You can read more here, here, and here.