Holding Out Hope

What are you holding out hope for?

We all grasp for hope in some form, because that’s how we’re wired. And right now, with a pandemic sweeping the nation, we're all holding out hope for things to go back to normal.

Just like winter holds out hope of spring, I’ve been holding out hope too. Hope that I would reach some semblance of “normal life” again.

Not normal in same category of my energy and life pre-chronic illness. But not “stuck in bed half the day after a grocery store run” either. Not pain that causes me to stop everything. Just the ability to work and to enjoy life again.

And I’m slowly getting there.

It's a long journey, and not without extreme challenges--continually learning to pace, how to handle "crash days", riding the rollercoaster of daily symptoms (which are milder overall, but not gone), and facing the emotional toll of life with limitations. I'm learning that the journey to healing is a challenge in and of itself.

Countless questions run through my head. Fear can overwhelm and direct those thoughts and questions.

And I bet you feel that right now too, in some way.

If you're desperately longing for hope and feeling like nothing is ever going to work, please don’t give up yet. Let's walk on this journey together. And may we find that as we face our deepest fears and hardest days, God is near. Underneath our cold, wintery exteriors, God gently softens our hearts, bringing healing where there is hurt and brokenness.

Just like winter begins to melt and bright buds spark excitement, bringing hope that the dreary winter will not last forever, hope is within reach for you too.

Will you draw near with me to the One who IS hope?

“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in him.” Lamentations 3:24

Looking Back... (health update!)

I have walked through some very dark nights in my battle with Lyme disease + several co-infections, a developing autoimmune disease, chronic gut infections, mold toxicity, and detox issues. It's been a long journey, including 5 years of ongoing diet, supplement, and medication adjustments, and 2.5 years of rigorous Lyme/co-infection treatment.

Over two years ago I wrote my first post on my chronic illness journey. Looking back now, I'm remembering what I've been through and grateful for where God has brought me, even if it's not complete healing.

Because over the last several years, there have been many restless nights where I was incredibly exhausted, yet couldn’t sleep.

I have experienced stomach pain so severe, I curled up in a ball moaning, feeling like I might die.

I have faced extreme pain and fatigue to the extent I couldn’t even get words out.

I have had fatigue and brain fog so bad I couldn't do anything but stare into space.

I experienced what it was like for doctors to not really believe me or think that I just needed anti-depressants.

I have battled extreme hopelessness, thinking my life had no value and would never improve, to the point that I desperately wanted to take my own life.

I have angrily cried out at God, blaming Him for how He treated me and questioning His goodness and care.

I have battled paralyzing fear.

Honestly, many of these emotions and struggles resurfaced when I started IV treatments in November that significantly increased my pain and fatigue (for a solid 2 months straight). Eighteen IVs later, I'm finally feeling hopeful again about the gradual improvement I've seen.

Yes, I still have pain and inflammation daily (autoimmune repercussions that will linger), but much less severely. I still have to stop and rest or take breaks, but I can get through most days without having to lay down. I still have to pace myself, but I can do things again. May sound small, but this is such a huge, encouraging improvement!

Remembering where I've come and how God has been faithful keeps me moving forward right now. Because I'm still not where I wish I could be. But I'm also not where I was.

For those of you still deep in the darkness of night, wondering how you’ll ever make it through—I don't want to discourage you or minimize your pain. I also don't mean to cast a false idea that my life is wonderful (it's not). But may I encourage you today? Your circumstances may be hard, but hope comes as we remember...

Remember God’s faithfulness (Deut. 7:9, Ps. 40:11).
Remember God’s loving care to you right now (Ps. 56:8, 1 Pet. 5:7).
Remember that joy will come again (Ps. 30:5).
Remember that this will end (2 Cor. 4:16-18).
Remember the gospel—hope bigger than your circumstances (1 Pet. 1:3-9).

This is the hope I'm breathing when life tells me all is hopeless. Will you join me in remembering and resting in the faithfulness of God?