It's Okay Cause I'm Alive

"My entire life can be described in one sentence: It didn't go as planned, and that's okay."

When I pinned this quote on Pinterest some time ago I don't think I understood how hard it would be to say "and that's okay." Some days it's easy to say it's okay. And some days my heart says it's not okay.  

It's easy to say it's okay when I'm laughing with Tanner as we hike 5 miles then get a lift down by strangers. It's easy to say it's okay when people hear my story and say they're encouraged. It's okay when I look back and see how far I've come and how God hasn't abandoned me. 

But when the music fades and I'm dealing with a migraine because of the atmosphere pressure change (I wish the rain loved me as much as I it) alone in my apartment, it's hard to say it's okay. When I get a call to answer questions about a friend who put me down as a reference and the gal on the phone asks where I work, the okay feels pretty distant. When I get to hold all the precious babies in my life I get a little sad (side note, don't stop letting me hold your babies. I think the more babies I hold the quicker my hormones will catch up). Seeing people have jobs they love and decorating their first home and going on beautiful vacations makes me a bit jealous. 

I guess that's my problem: jealousy. "Comparison is the thief of all joy" is so true. But it's hard to not think about pre-diagnosed  Rebekah and where she was hoping to be and where she is now. I'm not living in NYC, working at a random coffee shop, hearing the most dirty and beautiful stories from the most interesting people. 

Maybe contentment is my problem too. Paul found it. He found contentment in prison! So why can't I? He had so much peace and joy that no matter what life threw at him he was going to be okay. Why? Because the God of the universe loved him so much that nothing could rock his boat. Nothing so bad could happen to him that would change his foundation. If he lived he had the opportunity to share God's hope and glory. If he died he'd be with his Saviour. That's contemptment at its finest, folks. But you have to believe it to your core. 

This past weekend I spent a lot of time processing and thinking about where I was a year ago. I was dying and could have cared less. Today, a year later, I'm walking and talking and leaping and dancing. I'm capable and confident and victorious. I'm alive. I see the beauty of life in the Colorado mountains, in the many people placed all around me, and in God's goodness. I'm alive. 

I'm a fighter. Always have been and always will be. Expect for a year ago when others had to fight for me. But as a fighter I, for the most part, know I'll make it through anything. The first year through treatment when I could hardly breath I knew I'd make it. Call it stubbornness, pride or faith, it got me through. But with that thinking though, I lose sight of how amazing it is to be alive and how I can't take it for granted.

All that to say, this past weekend I got a new perspective shift. Instead of seeing how life didn't turn out how I planned, I'm seeing how it did turn out. Because no matter how many babies I don't have or where I live or what I do all day- I'm alive. I'm alive. I'm alive. I'm alive. I made it. Through God's grace and kindness and complete mercy I made it.

And no matter what I don't have or where I'm not I can still say I'm alive. I get to experience laughter and pain. I get to go on walks and watch the clouds change. I get to sit with my family and share memories. I get to watch sunrises and sunsets. I get to eat yummy food and drink Redds. I get to hold my husband's hand and remind myself of how blessed I am to be called his wife. I get to experience the good the bad the ugly and the beauty of life, cause I'm alive. 

I'm alive. I'm alive. I'm alive. I'm alive. I'm alive! (Name that David Crowder song)

And so are you. No matter what life throws at you, your world will not change. No matter what does or doesn't happen, you're loved by Jesus Himself and nothing can change that. 

Let's stop playing the "it could be worse" game. That's not encouraging someone to be thankful, that's cutting their feelings down. Your hard may not be my hard, but your hard is real to you. Don't feel guilty and pressured into being grateful because you have more then those people or your situation is not as bad as that one. Be grateful for your life because you're alive. 

Now go smell a flower and soak in vitamin D. Stare at the mountains. Eat good food. Cry with those you love. Laugh with strangers. Hike the physical and metaphorical mountains in your life and dance at the top. You're alive. 

My life has not gone as planned at all. But that's okay because I'm alive. It may not have turned out my way, but I'm here and it did turn out. 

~ "I want to eat cold tangerines and sing out loud in the car with the windows open and wear pink shoes and stay up all night laughing and paint my walls the exact color of the sky right now. I want to sleep hard on clean white sheets and throw parties and eat ripe tomatoes and read books so good they make me jump up and down, and I want my everyday to make God belly laugh, glad that he gave life to someone who loves the gift." - Shauna Niequist 

 

Death's Door: reminiscing one year ago

It feels like fall today in Colorado. I'm sitting on my bed looking out the window where the sky is cloudy, air is foggy, there's rain marking the ground and it's a bit chilly. I just finished some mini wheats, and am wrapped up in my soft blanket with my cat keeping my toes warm. I like mornings like this. All is well. 

But I can't help but tear up thinking about the hell I started to walk through a year ago. After being sick and in pain for 22 years I was diagnosed with Chronic Lyme Disease and coinfections (babesia and bartonella) two years ago and the first year was pretty tough. Dropped out of school, unemployed, in a wheelchair, with the PICC line controlling my life. I pretty much stayed in bed all day everyday, sick and in more pain than imaginable. But the pain I had felt all my life could not prepare me for those 3 days of torture. 

A year ago I was at bible study. I couldn't tell you what we were talking about because I normally sat in the corner and prayed I wouldn't get too sick and make a scene. The few days leading up I was having these episodes where my body would go completely numb and I felt like my body was shutting down. I would stare into space and either unable to respond or I'd talk gibberish. I remember reminding myself to breathe because breathing felt like a foreign concept. I was going in and out of those during group. 

After group everyone was talking and I started having awful chest pain. My chest was burning and piercing. I felt overheated too. People were concerned but I chalked it up to an anxiety attack or allergic reaction. Both were completely normal for me. People started dispersing and I felt myself getting weaker and weaker. Tanner ended up carrying me to the car while I apologized to all those around me for "making a scene". 

Mind you, this was my normal. 

We got home and I was getting ready to clean and flush my PICC line. I pulled the sleeve down to see blood coming out of the site. After completely freaking out Tanner and I decided to get it checked at the ER. We rolled into the ER around 10pm with PICC line issues. The doctor told me to call my home nurse and have her check it in the morning. Probably just placement being off. So we left. 

About halfway home Tanner turned the car around and brought me back to the ER. I was in tears because of the chest pain. I remember thinking it wasn't an anxiety attack anymore something was not okay. 

Back at the ER I was given pain meds and had an X-ray done to find out my PICC line was coiled. The line should go right up your arm and straight across your chest and stop next to your heart. Mine looped in the middle of my chest. What should have happened next? It should have been pulled immediately. But, because I'm an overachiever with medical, they had no one there to pull it. Meaning I was sent home to talk to my home nurse in the morning. 

We got home about 430am and Tanner attempted sleep as I cried in a ball wishing I had morphine to push in my veins. Tanner rubbed my back and prayed over me till 6am came around. He got ready to go to work and put me in the care of my mom till my nurse could tell me what to do. 

I curled up on the couch with my mom, feeling completely alone and terrified to my core. The pain level wasn't even unbearable anymore, it was almost numbing. I ended up going into complete shock. As I was convulsing on the ground my mom put my shoes on to take me back to the ER.  A different hospital this time. 

I was instantly brought back to a room. I was poked and given medicine which helped just enough to get me out of shock.  After finding out my PICC line was coiled they brought a nurse in to pull it out. The doctor explained the PICC line was coiled, but not just that, it was also pulling my veins and heart up towards my neck. Hearing the doctor tell my mom "I've never seen this before. It's medically impossible" was not comforting, to say the least. 

    Good-bye PICC line! 

So how does one recover from veins being pulled and inflamed you might ask. Relax, rest, and let it heal. In case you're wondering, it's not that easy. I slept most of Friday. Saturday I talked to my LLMD who sent prescriptions in for me. I was taken to pick those up and saw my chiropractor. But the pain wasn't lessening. It was actually getting worse. I ended up back in the ER because the pain was too much. I couldn't do it alone. 

The fourth time in the ER was me basically pleading for help. I wanted to be admitted. Maybe even put in an induced coma. The nurse asked my pain level and I said 10. Mind you, I've never said 10 before. I always knew my pain could be worse so I was "saving" the 10 till I really thought the pain was going to kill me.  

After more tests the doctor came back saying my veins are being pulled and  inflamed. I needed to calm down and breathe, let them heal. But I pleaded for him to not send me home. I couldn't be alone. I needed monitors and wires. I needed to constantly be watched. I couldn't be alone. But they had no real reason to keep me and sent me home. 

Then it was Sunday. I sat on the couch and watched football. I cried, screamed and zoned out. The pain was the worst thing in the world. There was no sign of it stopping either. If I were to stop fighting  for my life it was going to end. I couldn't do it anymore. The pain. Hopelessness. Fear. Anxiety. I was past the end of my rope. Where was He? Why wasn't God showing up? Why did He leave me to die from my very own veins? 

My mom saw the life being sucked out of me and how I was giving up. She knew what I was thinking and feeling without me saying a word. "Tanner, call someone. A pastor. A friend. Anyone! She's giving up. She's going to die if we don't do something now."  

I was brought to my pastor's house where another pastor and his family were too. We interrupted their dinner. I was wearing pajama bottoms, no deodorant, and a bird was basically living in my hair. I sat on their couch and cried. I sobbed and sobbed. I was afraid and scared and in more pain I thought was possible. I was weak and exhausted. And I didn't care if I was going to live or not. 

And they prayed. And they worshipped.  And they cried. They fought for me. 

One of the pastor's sons came up to me (I believe he's 7) and put his hands on my knee and prayed. He said, "Jesus, you have to heal Mrs.Bekah or she's going to die." The son who's a couple years younger prayed the same thing. Then they curled up in a chair and fell asleep. 

Us adults kept going for four more hours. 

I left feeling just a little better. My mom drove me around town till I fell asleep.  

BUT GOD 

The next morning I woke up feeling better. YES, better. Not drugged better or faking better. Actually better. And I kept getting better and better and better. I believe with all my heart that those kids childlike faith healed my heart and veins. I haven't used my wheelchair since that night. No talk about another PICC line has been brought up. I started hiking and walking again. I walked a 5K on Thanksgiving. Then three months later my LLMD told me he couldn't find Lyme or one of the coinfections in my body. 8 months later I did a Spartan race. That night, on October 5, 2014, I was part of a miracle. God used two precious little boys to heal me. I was, I am, a walking miracle. 

I believe in miracles. I believe God is Healer. I believe that God works all things together for my good. A year ago I stood at death's door with no fear of walking through it and today I couldn't be more happy to be alive. 

Hang in there. Whatever you're walking through please don't lose hope. This isn't wasted time and God will redeem that which was stolen from you. Where there is no way, God makes a way. 

    My first hike :)

      First 5k 

Dream Again

There is this dream I've had for 10 years. There is a place I want to call home and people I want to hear stories from. It's what my heart aches for and where I desire to put my energy. I've had countless dreams and prophetic words spoken over me. I've tried to throw myself into this place and doors have been shut. I've surrendered, begged God, to take it away. And it still engulfs my passion. 

And every time I try to get there the door closes. Which is why I've spent so much time surrendering this crazy desire to God. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe it's a bit of both. 

Why would I have such deep desires, detailed dreams, strong passion, and love for a place and people I'm not with? If this idea is wrong shouldn't the feelings go away? Is God teasing me? Why would my 'wake up calls' and the prophetic words spoken over me be a joke? 

When I got diagnosed with Lyme Disease  and coinfections I remember thinking it was another bolder in the way. Maybe through treatment my heart's longing will disappear. But the opposite happened. My heart's cry got stronger and stronger. It helped me fight through each day knowing this wasn't my forever and I had dreams to hold on to. 

I've been eagerly waiting for Jesus to release Tanner and myself since I started feeling better. Back in May when doors started opening we were sitting in a place of waiting. Waiting to see what Jesus would do. Waiting for the door to open. Waiting for our release. 

People were prophesying. Dreams and passions were stronger. Strangers were talking to the depths of our hearts. God's voice became more and more clear. That eagerness you get in the depths of your stomach when you know something is about to happen was there. 

Now is the time. 

Then it all stopped. The strangers. The detailed dreams. The 2am wake ups to pray. The testimony after testimony. 

I was face to face with my Dr suggesting I start Babesia (Lyme coinfection) treatment back up. He said this because of the tininitus, anxiety, flu-like symptoms, headache, and fatigue that began again. 

How does one go from diving in to their heart's cry to facing a locked up door... Again. 

I was mad and sad. I was so mad and sad I felt like acting like a five-year-old and only using the words mad and sad. I was confused and felt a tad bit stupid. How could so much change in a matter of months? How could I go from thinking I was dropping everything to live out 14 year-old Rebekah's dream to laying in bed sick? 

Something that was said over and over to me during the summer was that God doesn't give us dreams to tease us. I heard this so many times I knew it was from Jesus. But in that season I thought it was a healing over the past ten years. That I had a dream not as a waste but God had a purpose in it. 

Now I have to chose to trust that God isn't teasing me again. To be frank, a little bit of me felt like He did. I mean all this action. Testimony after testimony. Then nothing. It kinda stings... A lot. 

But God 

I believe God gave Tanner and I hope. When all of those doors were opening we journaled. Now we are able to read back and be amazed at how and when God shows up and does His God thing. My flesh wants to freak out and worry that it'll be another ten years and another door shut, but my spirit knows that God doesn't give me dreams to tease me. He gives me them to have something to fight for and believe in. He gives dreams to give us hope. 

This past summer a very wise woman told me to dream again. And that's exactly what I'm doing. I'm dreaming with my 14 year-old self. I'm believing that God isn't teasing me, but giving me something to fight for and cling to. He's not a mean God. He's good and knows exactly what His children need to hear to dream again. 

I encourage you to dream again.  I encourage you to fight for whatever makes your heart dance. No matter how far off it seems or how unrealistic or dirty... Dream. That thing that fills your prayers. That thing that makes your heart ache. That thing that you can't get off your mind no matter how crazy it seems... Dream. 

I feel like the story gets better and better with each opened and closed door.  I mean, at this point, it's gonna be a really good story when I get there. 

- "Back to the start, my heart is heavy

Feels like it's time, to dream again
I see the clouds, and yes I'm ready
To dance upon, this barren land
Hope in my hands" 

Give Yourself Grace

I've been meaning to write a post but I haven't known what to talk about nor have I had much to say. And I've had too much to say. 

Well, I'm currently sitting in my car for the next hour with nothing to do- so what better time than now. 

I'm actually pretty frustrated as to why I'm sitting in my car. I was supposed to be taking a Krav Maga class with my husband. He's been wanting to take a class with me for a while now. He found a free one and signed us up. I was totally on board until we got here. As we started walking up to the door I started freaking out.

What if my body isn't strong enough yet? What if I embarrass myself? What if I push it and relapse? I'm going to be critiqued on my moves. Look at that girl walking in... She has abs and great legs. I got tired scrubbing a microwave today... 

Safe for you to assume I didn't take the class. Tanner hugged me and told me there is no need to force myself to do anything I don't feel comfortable doing. I've already spent most of my life being forced to do things... Pain, PICC line, disease, bed-ridden, awful medicine, sick, needles... 

So now I'm sitting in the car. Starring at the "Krav Maga" sign. Crying. 

Did I let anxiety win? I don't know. 

Should I have pushed myself? Maybe. 

Am I putting my health first? I think so. 

Am I embarrassed and wish I could be up there getting a great body? Yes. 

There's some vulnerable Rebekah for ya. Want some more? 

I hate that I'm not a "normal" 24-year-old. I quit school after my Associates degree because I got too sick to handle it. I've had two "real" jobs. One lasted 3 years and the other 3 months (my admin job ended because the church closed). 

And I'm currently not working because I realized I've lived with a disease for 24 years and have already relapsed within 2 months of being told I was clean. I still have some pain and minor symptoms. I'm better than I've ever been, but not exactly where I want to be. I really don't know what I'm doing. I know where I want to be, and I'm trying everything I can do to get there, but it's still a process. I need to give myself grace and understand what I really went through. I need to process and heal completely. Tanner's doctor told me that she encourages her patients to "act sick" for 6 months after they're released to get accustomed to life, get 100%, and build an immunity. Not finding my identity in sickness and making up symptoms that arent there, but more like not full throttle and pushing myself. 

I have days where I couldn't be more proud of myself. Like yesterday when I went grocery shopping by myself for the very first time ever. I did like 3 weeks worth of meal prep and bought it all. 

And I have days where I sit in my car and cry because I'm not "normal" and still have walls to jump. But there are more proud days than cry days. 

What's the moral of this story?

A great time to blog is when you're in the car with nothing to do... Just kidding ;)

Grace. Grace is the moral of the story. I need to accept grace from my Jesus and give myself grace. 

It's OKAY that I'm not "normal". It's OKAY that I have limits. It's OKAY that I feel like a fish out of water. IT'S OKAY! I'm doing the best I can and I should be proud of that. For crying out loud I beat a disease that Drs. didn't think I would. I made it through the darkest nights. Jesus' grace was and still is enough. 

I BEAT LYME DISEASE!!!! And that's enough. Maybe my life doesn't look like anyone else, but does anyone's life look alike? This is my story. I'll go at the pace I need to. I choose my health. I don't choose to be on the same timeline or mental stability as everyone else. 

I'm proud of how I went grocery shopping alone. I'm proud of how I push myself and go hiking to see gorgeous views. I'm proud of how I can do certain things that used to give me anxiety. I'm proud of how I work out in the gym. I'm proud of myself for reading my body and doing what I need. I'm proud of myself for driving alone. I'm proud of myself for going to Doctor appointments alone. I'm proud of my Spartan medal. 

I'm choosing to focus on my LONG list of accomplishments and not my small list of fears and "fails".  I'm proud of how far I've come. And more importantly Jesus is proud of me. 

~ "You don't have to prove yourself. Don't try to be someone else. You are loved." 

To My Fellow Warriors

This is for all the lyme warriors, my fellow spoonies, my chronically ill friends. To those of you who deal with physical pain and fight mental illness. To those who can't get out of bed because they either are mentally or physically unable to. To those who have been told a medical answer that made your stomach drop. To those of you who fight everyday for your life. 

You're not alone. 

I know the pain of blocking off from the world because the anxiety is too much. I know what it's like to not have any consistency with your health. I know the fear in seeing your Dr's number come up on your phone. I know how it feels to not know why you're not okay. I know pain. I know so much pain that it's physically and mentally torturing. I know how it feels to wake up each morning and not know if it'll be a good day or a bad day. If you'll end up in the hospital or even be able to get out of bed. I know choosing to fight for your life. 

You are brave. 

You are some of the bravest people I know. It takes guts to fight day in and day out. This thorn in your side is not for the faint of heart. Not many people can keep fighting when they don't know the outcome. You are brave and courageous. You have a warrior heart. You are some of the strongest people I know. Every time you get knocked down you get back up. That's true bravery. 

I know you see friends and family on Instagram and Facebook going on adventures, getting married, attending school, having babies, climbing mountains, and going places. And I know your heart aches to do the same. I know you can't wait to do things and see things. And it's actually physically painful that you can't. 

I know the grief of wanting something so bad and it being impossible to achieve. 

But beloved, there are things you can do that they can't. There are things they are not able to do too. What you see on social media isn't everything. Learn to enjoy what you can and find beauty in where you are. No matter how much darkness you are walking through there is always something beautiful to be found. Look for it. Seek it out. Rejoice in the 5 min walk. Laugh with your family and friends. Enjoy sitting outside. Do what you can and enjoy it. Don't compare you accomplishments to others. Be proud of yourself. Learn to enjoy where you are in life, otherwise the jealousy will eat you alive. 

Please do what you can. Don't push yourself so much that you'll compromise your health. It's not worth it. Nothing is worth your health. Do what you can and enjoy exactly that. Add on a little at a time. 

Say no. It's okay. It doesn't matter what people think or expect of you. They don't know you. They don't know how much milk you like in your cereal. Only you know what you can do. Only you know what you can do that won't jeopardize your health. Don't let people's sighs or comments or looks put you in a place of people pleasing and sickness. It's not worth it. Your health is your #1 priority. 

And that's okay. 

You are not a failure because you can't climb mountains and travel the seas. You are not worthless because you ask for help. You are beloved. God cares and sees and loves you. The truth is you are courageous. You have learned things very few people have learned. You have compassion most people never get to feel. You are part of a world that has opened up your eyes and made you intelligent and selfless. 

You are so much more than your battle. Don't own that. Don't call your illness yours. Don't put value in what your Dr calls you and speaks over you. You are a child of God and are not a slave to fear. You are hidden in Christ- not Lyme or anxiety or fibro or MS or depression.  Know who you are and who's you are. 

Dream my warriors, dream! Just because you can't have it now doesn't mean you won't ever have it. Let your dreams help you fight and push forward. Let them give you something to live for. God doesn't give us desires to torture us or tease us. Let's retrain our thinking. Let's see dreams as medicine for the soul. I was once told that the right thing at the wrong time is still the wrong thing. And that's okay, friends. Because the right time could be just around the corner. Choose your health and dream. Hold on to hope. 

Just because you can't do a,b and c doesn't mean you can't do r, s and t. I think it's more beautiful to find beauty and enjoyment where you are than to mark things off a bucket list. Your heart is what matters. You could travel the world, have all the babies you want, and have a killer body... But if you don't know how to find beauty in the hardest of times, what do you have? 

Friends, your battle is not in vain. This is not your forever. I am so proud of you. You are a fighter and a warrior and brave.  Your life is of value. Look for the beauty. And dream big dreams. 

~"There’s hope for the hopeless

And all those who’ve strayed

Come sit at the table

Come taste the grace

There’s rest for the weary

Rest that endures

Earth has no sorrow

That heaven can’t cure"

Let's Clear Things Up

I feel like I may have been to quick in my last post about my Dr. appt and it confused people. So I wanted to explain what's going on a little better... 

Last week when I saw my LLMD he did some testing and found babesia (a coinfection to Lyme that makes you feel flu-like) in my body. I was cleared of Babesia in January. I've been off all treatment since January, but sometime in the past couple months the boogers returned. 

They could have gone into hiding and popped back out or I could have given them to Tanner and he gave it back or it's a straight up relapse. 

I know a lot of you are not thrilled with me using the word "relapse". But I'm okay with it. Why? Because I'm not giving it value. I believe that every name must bow to the name of Jesus and babesia is a name so I'm calling it out and telling it to obey Jesus Christ. 

I saw my therapist last week and was challenged to stop finding my value in  "not having Lyme". Funny, huh? For so long I learned to not find my value in having Lyme... But I can't do the opposite either. Otherwise finding out Babesia is hanging around my body makes me freak out and fall apart. 

I'm not giving any of that value. No value in babesia, relapse and not even in not having a disease. My value is 100% in Christ. I am a child of God. Period. No matter what happens with my health- I am a child of God. End of story. 

So what now? 

Well, I'm back on treatment. I'm herxing. So I feel flu-like, pain in my chest, ribs, spine, heart. Dr.N thinks it's just 1 month worth and I'll be off treatment again. Tanner will be getting tested in a couple weeks to see if he is carrying Lyme or coinfections and he'll start treatment. My Dr doesn't believe you can normally pass it to each other if you're on treatment. So Tanner will start before I finish and we should both be clear and no more sharing. 

To be frank... It sucks. I don't like feeling sick. Those couple of months of almost symptom free are now teasing me. I have to continuously take my thoughts captive and trust that God is good and He will make sure the victory is bigger and better than the battle. I don't get why this happened. I'm really good at being healthy and enjoying life ;) really not fond of this nonsense. I feel foggy headed and I'm having a difficult time connecting my brain and thoughts. I feel sluggish and fatigued. 

But I know I'll make it through. I know  I'm victorious in Christ and that I'll be okay. I really appreciate those of you who were sympathetic and said "sorry, that sucks". Thanks for getting mad with me and being upset. That's what I needed. There's not much to say. Thank you for the lime green hearts and the prayers. I need them. I don't know how to do another round of treatment without God's grace. 

What does the future look like? Stupid news: I have no clue. Lovely news: Jesus will still be Lord. I couldn't tell you if I'll be Lyme free again in a month or if those boogers will come back in a few months. Or if I'll be cleared and stay lyme free till Jesus brings me home. Either way Jesus will be Lord and I'll be okay because I am a child of God. 

Fun little God story: On Mother's Day I was having a rough time not being a mommy. I know it's not the time. I know I need to get healthy first. I know it all. The common sense in me agrees. But my heart was aching. Not only is it not the right time, but it's not even possible. My hormones got a little hurt with Lyme and need to be healed and start working on their own. ANYWAY. It sucks. And I was telling Jesus and Tanner that I'm not into this plan. I decided to do one of those 'let's see what my daily devotion says and see if God will speak through it' things. And the first line said,"I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten." Joel 2:25 

And I cried. That's my promise from the Lord. That's what I can hold on to. No matter what I've lost during these years of sickness Jesus will restore it. And I know His restoration is so much better than my plan A. 

If you have any questions please ask. This is my life. I'm all about Lyme Disease awareness. It's a stupid disease. And I refuse to do nothing about it.  

~ "Be brave, my darling you have faced dark times before and you're still here now."

And If Not, He Is Still Good

I was hoping this post would just be filled with the awesome things that I have been doing. All the life I've been living and celebrating and adventures I've been on. 

But I have some not so great news. I was debating on what to share first and decided to get the bad news out of the way and then focus on the great stuff. 

Today I saw my LLMD and found out Babesia has returned. Is it a relapse, or did Tanner give it to me or did it come out of hiding? Who knows. I'm back on Babesia treatment for the next month. Hopefully that will really be the end of this. 

I'm processing. I'm a little mad. But to be honest, I'm not surprised. I have a few symptoms I'd rather not live with. Headaches, ringing in the ears, rib pain, and chest pain. It's better than it's ever been, but not 100%. 

Tanner will start treatment in a couple weeks so I'll be safe on treatment till he can start. Then this sharing nonsense can end ;) so maybe it's by God's grace I'm on treatment till Tanner starts. Protect me from getting it worse till Tanner gets cleared up. 

God is still good

I've resolved that no matter what happens God is good, I'm loved by the King of kings, and my world has not changed. My hope is in Jesus, so I can never be hopeless. God has not failed me and He won't start now. 

I used to watch this tv show when I was sick. The girl had leukemia and was going through treatment. She got better and went into remission, started living life then she relapsed.  In the show she said something about being stupid for thinking it was gone. 

I'm not going to think like that. Instead I'm choosing joy. How blessed am I to get to rely on God's strength and watch Him move mountains. How sweet that my life is dependent on God's grace. How beautiful is it that I get to keep learning about God's character. 

Now that that's out of the way... 

I got a part-time job. My mom, best friend and husband threw me a "something beautiful" party. And I did a Spartan race this past weekend. Best part... I feel the best I have ever felt in my life! 

I currently work as an Administrative Assistant at my church. I adore my job. I love waking up with a purpose. I love earning a paycheck. I love what I do and who I work for. It's just perfect. Jesus was so involved with me getting that! 

So I had this dance party... I wore a bright lime green dress and danced for almost 3 hours. My friends and family came to celebrate with me. When I was my sickest this was the party I dreamt about and waited for. I used to say, "Mom, you promise when I feel better we'll dance?" And she promised. So here it was. My dance party. Celebrating that I made it through the darkest of nights. I didn't want to call it a remission party cause I believed God healed me. I still do believe God healed me. 

This was the best party ever. 

This past weekend I did a Spartan Sprint.  4.9 miles and 20 obstacles. I had so much fun and can't wait to do another. I carried heavy things and jumped walls and swung from a rope and did burpees... And a lot more. I crossed the finish line covered in mud, with tears in my eyes, and wished it wasnt over yet. 

Being told I have Babesia again doesn't change the fact that I've moved out, gotten a job, danced for almost 3 hours, and did a Spartan race. And now I'm training for a half marathon. 

Can I challenge you? 

Don't live life waiting for the next shoe to drop. That's not going to stop the bad from happening. And when crap does happen your world has not changed. You are still adored by Jesus. You are still more than a conqueror. And you are victorious. 

Life is like a video game. Each level gets harder. But when you conquer that level you move up. You get another super power or more tokens or a gift. It wasn't wasted. When challenges come, overcome them, don't get stuck in them. Challenges are your opportunity to get closer to Jesus, grow and learn. 

So bring it. I'm ready to destroy the last bit of Lyme in my body. Bring on the treatment. Cause I know that the finish line is close. It couldn't kill me the first time, it won't kill me this time. Plus I'm even stronger than before. 

"This is my fight song, take back my life song."