January 5, 2015

~ Kristin ~ 1 Comment

Hi, my name is Kristin.  It’s January 5th and I don’t have a job.

Those of you who have been reading my blog for a while know that about a year ago, my health professionals recommended that once I moved to Ann Arbor, after 21 years of parenting, teaching, and managing the lives of many around me, often to the detriment of my own, I should take at least six months to rest and recover.  I had been diagnosed with Psoriatic Arthritis in the spring of 2013 and had, by necessity, kept pushing through life’s demands.  I was exhausted, but I thought surely six months was too long.  Wouldn’t three months be ok? No, I should start with six and twelve was not out of the question.

The idea of ‘doing nothing’ for six to twelve months was very foreign to me.  First of all, we are not independently wealthy.  We always, it seems, have ‘just enough’.   We don’t have a ton saved up for retirement, we have bills to pay every month, and we are still supporting two of our children.  Why would I think, as the wife of a pastor, that I could take six, let alone, twelve months off from work? Second of all, I have been (except for about a year during adolescence when I sat in a recliner eating chips and reading books) for most of my life a type AAA personality.  I do things.  Lots of things. How was I supposed to sit around for all those months doing nothing? Shouldn’t I pursue my PhD now that I am living in a town with the exact program that I have always wanted?  Shouldn’t I transfer my teaching credentials back to Michigan and get a job in an underserved population?  Guys, I could have a job today that would wipe out our kids’ student debt and afford us a second vehicle in no time.  But the doctors, and my husband, and my children, and my friends, all said, “you really need to take a break.”

Ok, fine. I will take a break, but only until January 5.  By then I am going back to work.

Um, guys, I’m sitting in my pajamas at 9:20 AM, and it’s January 5.

My plans for today?  Blogging, exercise, dropping off another load at Salvation Army, drinking tea, and resting.

Why? Well, I don’t think it’s time yet.  I keep poking myself with a fork, but I don’t seem quite done.

First of all, my health is still evolving.  I am doing SO. MUCH. BETTER.  But there are still questions.  For instance, last week my newest doctor, who practices Integrative Medicine, called with some lab results.  Apparently I have had mono at some time — can’t tell when, but I definitely have had mono.  What? And also, my cortisol levels are low.  What does that mean?  Well, one theory suggests that prolonged periods of stress can lead to abnormal cortisol production — too much or too little cortisol.  Too little cortisol can cause the following: brain fog, fatigue, inflammation…. Yeah.  Let’s not unpack all of that right now because then I would have to admit that all my butt-kicking and name-taking had potentially caused the state of chronic fatigue that I have been in for over two years.  Moving right along.

Second of all, I am learning lots of new ways of being.  My quest for better health has caused me to adopt some new routines — new ways of eating, exercising, relaxing, interacting with others, and being still.  All of this takes time.  Right now, in my recovery, the pay off is worth the time.

And, I am actually using my skill set and gift mix to earn a little cash.  A little.  I am doing some editing for a variety of people, mostly students, which is feeding my need to interact with others in a coaching role.  I feel useful and appreciated.  I have also been approved to be a grader for the Educational Testing Service — reading standardized test writing responses and evaluating test items.  I am waiting on the paperwork for that.  I have also registered for a tutoring service that matches tutors with students.  I am expecting to see a little activity from this in the next couple of weeks as students get into the semester.  All of these things I can do at my leisure, when I am able, not on a schedule.

Further, because I am not working in a full-time capacity, I am much more present for the people who matter most to me — my husband, my kids, my new granddaughter (!!), my extended family, and my friends.  For a very long time, all of these people have received my leftovers.  That is not how I want to spend my life.  I want to be able to answer texts from my kids, go out for coffee with my husband, go to Bible study with my girls, and take a road trip to see a baby if I want to.

Lastly and most significantly, I am moving slowly enough right now that I am noticing God’s work in my life. When I was moving at blinding speed, I didn’t always pay attention to His subtle and not-so-subtle messages to me.  But here’s the thing, when I start my morning in His Word each day, I am always amazed at its relevance.  I wasn’t taking the time for that before.  I was running my life, thank you very much.

So, I’m unemployed on January 5.  I’m not exactly sure what’s next, kids, but I am good with that for now. I am coming to terms with the fact that I am not writing this next chapter. 

Jeremiah 29:11

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord,

“plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future.”

Seeing The Gift

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

My Bible reading this morning was about Abraham and Isaac.  You know the one, they are walking together — father and son — with sticks and flame and knife toward Mount Moriah to make a sacrifice.  Isaac, though young, is pretty sharp.  “Hey, Dad, I noticed we don’t have an animal with us for the sacrifice.”  Abraham assures him that God will provide what is needed, knowing full-well that God has told him to sacrifice Isaac.

Can you imagine?  I don’t think we can.  Here we sit in the United States of America — the land of the free, the home of the brave, the place where parents give their children everything. Everything. I am not exempt from this.  I remember my mother telling me when I was younger, “If I had the money, I would buy you everything.”  And I knew she would.  Still one of her greatest joys is giving to her children and her grandchildren. Like mother, like daughter.  I love to give my children what they need and what they want.  I sometimes go overboard.  I sometimes lose track of what they need and what they want, and buy them things that I think they need or want, and even things that no one needs or wants.

So, can I imagine depriving them of something? Or, gasp, agreeing to sacrifice them? No.  Not at all.

But Abraham had heard from God, “Take your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love, and…offer him there as a burnt offering…”

Abraham “rose up early in the morning, saddled his donkey, and took two of his young men with him, and his son Isaac.”

Say what? 

Abraham had waited for this kid.  He and Sarah had Isaac in their old age.  They had longed for him.  Prayed for him.  And, finally, they had welcomed him.  And now Abraham was supposed to lay him on an altar, put a knife into him, and then burn him? 

Hebrews 11 says ” By faith, Abraham, when he was tested, offered up Isaac, and he … was in the act of offering up his only son…” when God said “Do not lay your hand on the boy…now I know that you fear God, seeing you have not withheld your son, your only son, from me” (Genesis 22).

He didn’t make him go through with it! He Himself provided a ram for Abraham,… and a Lamb for us.

If we picture ourselves placing our own children on an altar and raising the knife, we can see our eyes squeezed shut, the sweat beads forming on our brow, the sheer anguish, praying that God will provide.  What relief Abraham must have felt!  God had provided.  His only son didn’t have to become a sacrifice.

But His Only Son did.

And how do we celebrate this?  How do we mark the relief, the thankfulness that we feel when we realize that we have been rescued?

It’s hard to do this with integrity in a culture that hauls out Santa in October, pipes holiday muzak from every speaker, and pressures us to have the perfect gift for everyone on our list.  We are so bombarded by a consumer culture that we can’t even fathom giving up having a Christmas tree, let alone giving up a child.

That is, after all,  what Christmas celebrates.  The Child.  The Sacrifice.  The Gift.

I forget about that.  I am so consumed with finding the perfect gift for my kids, my spouse, my parents, that I forget about The Perfect Gift.  I online shop and run from store to store in order to find that special item, and I overlook The Special Item. Sure, I squeeze in Advent worship and Christmas Eve worship.  I sing “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel” and “Joy to the World” but if I am going to be honest (and you know I am) I put my focus on the gifts instead of The Gift. 

But things are shifting over here in the little house by the river.  As I continue on the Minimalist Challenge, and trim out the unnecessary, I am finding it easier to see the things that really matter.  I am unwilling to forfeit my Bible, my journals, my laptop, or my family photos.  I am willing instead to get rid of old puzzles, dusty books, unworn clothing, an extra crockpot, an electric roaster, and a yoga mat that I never use anyway.  I am hoping that as I send more clutter out the door, I will be less distracted and more able to see all the blessings that The Gift has provided for me — not the things that I can pick up on clearance at Target, but the priceless gifts of family, health, love, faith, friendship…

I am learning a lot in this next chapter, guys.  I’ll add learning to my list of priceless gifts.

Titus 2:11-12

For the grace of God has appeared that offers salvation to all people.

 It teaches us to say “no” to ungodliness and worldly passions,

and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in this present age.

Forgive Me, for I have slipped

~ Kristin ~ 1 Comment

Forgive me readers, for I have slipped; it has been five days since my last blog post.  And, you know, it feels a lot more like five weeks!  The reason I haven’t been blogging is because I have been busy!

Up until yesterday, I had kept up with the minimalist challenge — giving away one more thing each day since December 12.  It really has become a challenge!  Yesterday I was supposed to get rid of twenty-one things, today twenty-two, and tomorrow twenty-three.  But since I am behind, my goal is to dig up sixty-six things tomorrow, throw them in the trunk of my car, and take another trip to Salvation Army.  Actually, I got started today by mailing six items to people who had purchased them from me on Ebay.   So, tomorrow I will find just sixty more.  You can probably imagine that this undertaking has taken some time!

We also had two daughters and one boyfriend here for part of the last week and my husband has been taking vacation.  Having these extra people in the house has been extra fun — more cooking, more laughing, more Uno playing, more eating.  And, more living equals less time for blogging about living.

During this time, one of our daughters embarked on a fitness regimen which included her middle-aged mother!  For several days in a row we did forty-five minutes on an elliptical machine followed by fifteen minutes on the treadmill and several weight-lifting reps.  It really didn’t take more time than my usual workout, but it was different time.

My routine for the past several weeks has definitely shifted.  Where I had been waking, making tea, and blogging, always in that order, I have adopted the theme of ‘fluidity’ for the holidays.  I have tried not to demand structure, but instead to go with the flow.  And ‘the flow’ has not always included my usual activities. Actually, ‘the flow’ has been a lot of fun!  It has allowed for new recipes, lots of movies, some impromptu shopping, and lots of chatting.

In the midst of all this ‘flow’, to our great joy, our first grandchild — my newest love-child — was born eleven days early!  Her arrival inspired a road-trip to Cincinnati complete with lots of adoring and picture-taking, but not much time for blogging.

Today, as I lay in my bed, recovering from holiday exhaustion, I started to think about all the things I will write about in the next several days and I started feeling a little overwhelmed. Then I remembered last year. When I lived apart from husband, we sometimes didn’t see each other for a month at a time.  I would often greet him saying, “I have so much to tell you. I don’t know where to start, but I am sure it will all leak out over time.”   I am feeling that way right now.  How can I in one post describe my joy at meeting our granddaughter, my experience of laying aside my agenda to ‘go with the flow’, my thoughts about simplifying through the minimalist challenge, my new information about my health, my time with my daughters, and my thoughts about working as January 5th arrives.  I can’t.

I have so much to tell you. I don’t know where to start, but I am sure it will all leak out over time.

I hope you will join me on my continued journey in this next chapter.

Psalm 90:12

Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.

Don’t wait for Christmas, a Revisit

~ Kristin ~ 1 Comment

Back in December 2014 when I first wrote this post, I was just starting to recognize how hard the holidays can be — how isolating, how anxiety-producing, how uncomfortable. I’ve always loved Christmas, but I’ve had a taste of how celebration can feel during a season of grief. I’ve begun to understand how difficult it can be to be with family and friends — even when you love them. And I’ve been learning a new way.

We spend a lot of time and money getting ready for the holidays. Over the last month many of us have attended parties, dinners, and gift exchanges with family, friends, and coworkers. We have cooked special foods, decorated our homes, and dressed in finery in order to celebrate.

We celebrate the love of family. We celebrate that we get time off from work. We celebrate our friendships. We celebrate the birth of a Savior.

We celebrate by eating, drinking, laughing, and sharing. We celebrate by giving and receiving gifts, by sending Christmas cards, by calling those we love, and by worshipping with our church families.

But there are many among us who just can’t celebrate. And they probably aren’t telling you about it. They may decline invitations, bow out early, or just refuse to answer your calls. It’s not that they don’t want to be there. They really do want to be there. They just can’t. 

It would be easy if they had a contagious disease, were recovering from surgery, or had a compromised immune system that prohibited them from joining in the festivities. Then you would understand. “Oh, too bad Bobby can’t be here, you know he just had that surgery, and he’s recovering in the hospital.” Everybody gets that. In fact, many of us would load up our gifts and drive over to the hospital to bring the celebration to Bobby because we love him and don’t want him to be left out.

But some people can’t celebrate and it’s because of something that you can’t see — something you may not understand.

Kay Warren, wife of well-known pastor, Rick Warren, who lost a son to suicide in 2013, recently posted on Facebook and then wrote in Christianity Today about the pain she has endured over the last two Christmases as well-meaning friends and acquaintances have sent Christmas cards filled with photos of smiling families and newsletters proclaiming all the good stuff that has happened for them over the year. She received these celebratory cards and letters and got angry. She couldn’t possibly celebrate. How could she, knowing that her son had taken his own life? Even if she believed that Jesus was born in a manger to save the world from their sins, even if she trusted Him and believed that He held her in the palm of His hand, she couldn’t possibly smile, or laugh, or rejoice.

She’s not alone, guys. While we deck the halls and kiss under the mistletoe, many around us can’t fathom the “oh what fun it is”. Not today. Not yesterday. Not Christmas Day.

They’ve lost a child. They are in the middle of a divorce. A loved one has cancer. They just lost their job and can’t pay the mortgage. Their father is on life-support. They have experienced pain that they can’t even talk about. And the idea of joining you or me in our merriment, knowing the pain that they know, is unconscionable. It just can’t be. 

So they stay home, miserably wishing they could be there, wishing they could celebrate, wishing they could be part of the joy. Angry that you can be. 

Moving forward, I’m going to spend less time and money getting ready for the holidays. I’m going to try to shift my focus to the here and now — to little moments that I can be with those I love —  in their tears,  in their laughter,  in their anger. And if we get glimpses of celebration, we will seize them — we won’t wait for Christmas.

And, if they happen to come at Christmas, well then, we’ll be all the merrier.

Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”

Matthew 5:4

If I had sent a card…

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

I didn’t buy Christmas cards this year.  I didn’t write a Christmas letter.  I’m struggling with it a little bit.

Every day cards, letters, and photos arrive from people that we love, who cared enough to ask for our new address, who wrote personal notes — some of them quite long, who made sure to remember us this Christmas. As they arrive I have that internal battle — does my desire to simplify and not send cards send the message that I don’t care?  That I don’t miss our friends in St. Louis? That I don’t remember family that lives far away?

I hope not.

Because we are so blessed.  We do care about all the people we have known over the years — our friends who are missionaries in Tanzania who recently made the decision to adopt their first child there, our friend serving in Guatemala who is coming home for the holidays, our friends in Oregon, and Minnesota, Wisconsin, Florida, Texas, and Michigan.  We do miss our friends in St. Louis — the friends who labored so hard and for so long to build the congregation where my husband served, the colleagues at the high school where I taught, our neighbors, and all our dear friends. We do remember family in Texas, California, New Jersey, Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania, and Arizona.

We just didn’t do a card or a letter this year.

So let me say here, that if we would have sent a card or a letter it would have wished you peace.  Peace in whatever circumstances you are living, peace in the face of all the conflict in the world, peace within yourself.  We, too, are looking for the peace that passes all understanding.  We know that one day we will experience it fully.  We pray that we, and you, get a taste of it this week as we celebrate the birth of the Prince of Peace and that that taste lingers into the coming year.

John 14:27

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you.

I do not give to you as the world gives.

Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

Late night prayers, revisit

~ Kristin ~ 2 Comments

Since I posted on Monday about prayer and my habit of trying to work everything out on my own before I consider lifting my requests to God, I’ve woken several times in the middle of the night. From that supine position of near-sleep, I find I’m less likely to jump into action mode and more likely to grumble a prayer, “Lord, I’d really like to get back to sleep, would you mind holding on to this worry for me? Would you please guide me toward a decision? Would you care for this person I’m worried about?”

I’ve not been a consistent pray-er over the years, but I am continually provided with opportunities to improve — like waking in the middle of the night. I first posted this piece in December of 2014; I repost it here in August of 2019. Whether you choose to read it or not, I pray that you would be drawn more and more to prayer.

I woke up more than sixteen hours ago. I had a pretty full day — 50 minutes of walking, 45 minutes of Pilates, some housework, some cooking, some laundry, a chiropractor appointment, several cups of tea, work on a jigsaw puzzle, and guests for dinner and chatting.

Such a full and rich day — so why, at 1:00AM, am I awake?

Good question.

Rembrandt
A Woman Lying Awake in Bed

I can’t figure it out myself. The rest of the house is bedded down, even the dog, and here I sit. Is there something unsettling on my mind? Not that I know of. Did I drink too much caffeine? Not really.

But here I am — wide awake.

A pastor-friend once said that if you find yourself awake in the middle of the night, you might consider praying. Perhaps God has you awake for such a time as this — to intercede for someone in your life. To stand in the gap.

Do I know anyone in need of prayer? Do I know anyone who is not in need of prayer?

So, here I am lifting you up — my friends who laugh and cry with me and love me through the highs and lows, my parents who instilled in me a faithfulness to God and continue to provide examples of love and care for family, my siblings who kept (and keep) me humble and who grow more dear to me each day, my husband who is — more than ever — my partner in life, our sons and daughters who are strong and passionate and dear and who continually cause us to grow into more thoughtful, more compassionate people.

And for you, too, those of you who are hurting because you have lost someone dear, those of you who are lonely, those of you who are ill, or injured, or angry…

And for you, too, those of you who are celebrating, and excited, and scared, and confused.

I speak your name before your almighty Creator, because that’s the best thing I can do for you. He’s already holding you in the palm of His hand, so let me say your name and watch Him shift His gaze a little closer. He knows you and sees you, and when you are this close — right inside His gaze — the light of His presence will touch you, and you will be changed.

Many years ago, my youngest, lying next to me in bed one night asked me, “Does God know who I am?” I answered that of course He could, and right in that moment I made up a little song that I sang to her for years:

He knows you, He knows you. He holds you in His hand.

He knows you, He shows you His ever perfect plan.

He knows you, He watches, He sees you every day.

He knows you, He listens, and answers when you pray.

That’s why I lift you up tonight — because He knows you. He sees you. He loves you. He’s listening. He’s answering.

So, having lifted you up, I will now try to sleep in peace, knowing He’s got us all in the palm of His hand.

I will lie down and sleep in peace, for You, O Lord, make me dwell in safety.”

Psalm 4:8

A Lesson in Planning

~ Kristin ~ 1 Comment

When our children were little, three aged five and under, I built a pretty concrete schedule for how our days would go.  I literally wrote it down.  The teachers out there might understand this, or those who desperately crave control in their lives.  It literally looked something like this.

  • 6:30am Wake up and breakfast
  • 7:00  Clean up and get dressed
  • 7:30 Play time
  • 8:00 Morning Lesson — Letter of the day, songs, play-doh
  • 9:00 Outside play
  • 10:00 Quiet time

It really was that planned out.  My mother, who raised four children of her own without killing anyone, once came to stay with the kids while my husband and I went out of town for the weekend.  I actually typed up the daily schedule including menu recommendations and clothing options and printed it out for her.  I believe it was three pages long.

Yeah, you can judge me.

Looking back, I believe that I was utterly overwhelmed by the fact that I had three children so close together.  One way to not feel so overwhelmed was to order my day down to the minute.  We ate at the same time every day, slept at the same time every day, went to the library the same day every week, and never missed an activity at church.  In fact, even after the kids were all in school, I would create themes for the summer and plan activities to support the theme.  I really wanted order, control, and predictability.

I know what you are thinking.  All of my planning didn’t prevent the unpredictable.  You are right.  I couldn’t plan for illnesses, for accidents that took us to the emergency room, or for unexpected visitors at the front door.   In fact, I didn’t do well when these interruptions occurred.  I often got crabby and grumbled around the house because reality didn’t match my expectations.

But I learned my lesson, right?

I wish I could say that I had.  I am still learning how to be fluid, to roll with the punches.  This past week was a refresher course.  I would go to bed thinking I knew what the next day held, only to realize, upon waking, that something totally different was in store.  Probably the capstone of the week was yesterday — my husband and I had decided we would have a slow Saturday morning, followed by some errand running, a walk with the dog, and then a date night at home.  Doesn’t that sound lovely?  Here’s what really happened.  We woke to find that about a hundred ants had moved into our kitchen.  We handled that situation, one of us more graciously than the other.  Then, once I had a good snit worked up, I insisted on cleaning not just the floor where the ants had been, but the entire kitchen.  While I was at it, I might as well make a huge breakfast, which was delicious, but created more clean up.  We got through about half the errands then stopped off at home for a moment where we were greeted by out of town guests that we had forgotten “were passing through”.  After a lovely visit with them, we decided we could still fit in a short walk, scrounge some food together, and watch some NCAA basketball — our date night.

My Friday night planning didn’t circumvent the unexpected of Saturday.  I spent about an hour or two of my morning fussing and fuming, but thankfully, was able to start “rolling” with the alternate plan by around noon.  It turns out that sipping tea while reading children’s books in a local bookstore is pretty relaxing.  Chatting with family that we hadn’t seen in a while was a lovely break in our day.  Watching the Spartans lose (poor Izzo!) was not necessarily enjoyable, but it was time spent with the guy I would choose over everyone else.

So, I re-learned the lesson yesterday, right?

Nope.  I needed a refresher course today.  Almost all of the things we had planned for today have changed.  Almost every single one. Did I roll with it?  Not at first.  I fussed and fumed a bit.  Verbalized my frustration.  Then, settled in to what was going to be.  Turns out I got lots of quiet time, a nice little rest, a second cup of tea, and a delicious meal is roasting in the oven.  Not exactly what I had planned.  It’s actually an improvement.  Maybe this time the lesson will stick.

Psalm 33:11

But plans of the Lord stand firm forever, the purposes of his heart through all generations.

Having compassion

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

I’m sitting on my sofa with my feet resting on the ottoman in front of me.  Squeezed between the ottoman and the sofa, beneath my raised legs, lies Chester.  Poor traumatized Chester.

He woke up this morning expecting the usual — a trip outside with dad, food delivery from mom, a good morning nap, a walk, some barking at passersby, another meal, and some cuddling.  What he got was a trip to the animal hospital for an immunization and some grooming.

He ran willingly to the car, because since moving to Ann Arbor, the car means we are going to the park for a walk.  In St. Louis, we went on walks directly from our home, so the car meant one thing — we were going to the vet.  Period.  Chester hated getting into the car in St. Louis, but ever since that long drive to Ann Arbor, perched between mom and dad stealing French fries and drinks of water out of a McDonald’s cup, rides have been pretty sweet!

Until this morning.

He jumped into the back seat and settled in with his nose against the glass.  “Hooray!  Car ride! Park! Let’s go!” The ride was a little longer than a typical ride to the park, but he was calm.  “Longer ride; better park!” But when I pulled into the parking lot at the animal hospital and opened his door, he took a more investigative posture. He was pretty committed to sniffing every square inch of grass around the parking lot, but he still didn’t seem stressed. He had ascertained that other dogs had recently been present, yet he willingly walked into the building with me — more sniffing. Still calm. It wasn’t until we entered “Exam Room 2” and closed the door behind us that he recognized the high exam table, the built-in bench for mom, and the canister of – gasp – swabs! 

It was then that he looked at me with horror and ran directly to the door, begging, pleading with me to get him outta there!  “The Vet!!?!?!?!?  I thought we were going on a walk!?!?!?!?  How could you!?!?!?  I trusted you!?!?!?” No amount of reassuring would quiet him.  He was pretty ticked.  When the groomer came in to get him, our timid little Chester, actually growled at her.  She assured me that he would be fine and that she would call me when he was “done”. I trusted her.  She seemed like she knew what she was doing.  Chester refused to say “goodbye”.  He was going to show me.

Hours later, when I still hadn’t received a call, I phoned the animal hospital to check on Chester’s progress.  He was indeed “done”.  I arrived, paid for the services, and watched as the groomer appeared from behind a door with a dog that distinctly resembled my Chester.  I greeted him, but he showed no recognition of me.  I called to him; he turned the other way.  I walked him outside; he relieved himself and then non-emotionally walked to our car.  He crawled into the back seat and turned to look out the window, refusing to acknowledge my presence.

Ten minutes later, when I pulled into our parking spot outside our house, his tail began to wag.  I took him out of the car and he sniffed all his usual spots.  I opened the door to the house and he ran into familiarity.  He stood in the kitchen and drank out of his bowl, his very own bowl, for about five solid minutes.  He briefly greeted other family members, but mostly he has been content to lie beneath my legs.  He’s sacked out.  Exhausted.  Traumatized.

Me?  I’m fine, thanks. But then again, I didn’t have anybody take me to a place I didn’t know, to be cared for by people I’ve never met, and to be shampooed in stuff that smells nothing like anything I would choose.  I’ll let him pout for a little while longer. I would’ve thrown a fit too.  I imagine he’ll forgive me soon enough, I mean he is already sleeping underneath my legs.

Psalm 145:9

The Lord is good to all; He has compassion on all He has made.

Ooops

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

You know how just yesterday I was talking about ‘reintroducing foods’ and doing it cautiously?  Well, yeah, that’s a good idea.  I wrote that blog yesterday morning, and by last night, my husband’s birthday, I had ordered three entrees, two appetizers, and two orders of naan from a local Indian restaurant and had purchased two bottles of red wine to go with it.  For the first time in over two weeks, I did not worry about what I was eating — I thoroughly enjoyed that food and let me just say, it was delicious!

However, when I woke at 3:30 feeling a little “rough around the edges”, I rethought my choices and decided to do be a bit more cautious today.

We had vegetable pakora, lamb saag, bhindi masala, yum, yum, yummy.  None of it is bad in itself, but after almost two weeks with little more than rice, vegetables, chicken, fish, broth, and more recently fruit, potatoes, and eggs, it was a bit of a leap. Combine that with maybe one too many glasses of cabernet and you’ve got a tired, dehydrated, stiff, achey girl who wishes she would’ve eaten more of the basmati rice and drank more ice water instead of that last glass of wine.

So, what do you do when you fall off the horse, you get right back on.

This morning I started with the juice of half a lemon in hot water with one teaspoon cinnamon and two tablespoons honey — a new addition that is purported to decrease inflammation.  Then I had my UltraInflam shake mixed with one banana and a handful of frozen berries before I met a friend to go walking for an hour.  After our walk, we each had a cup of green tea before I headed back home.

Lunch was two eggs over easy with a half cup of rice.  Right now I am on my second cup of black tea.  I’m still not feeling great, but hopefully a day or two of discipline will restore me back to the energetic self I wrote about yesterday.

All of life is like that, isn’t it.  We have good intentions, we walk down a straight path for a while, but then we slip off the path into the rough and it feels, well, … rough.

So, here’s to getting back on the horse, and back on the path.  Here’s to a fresh start, a new day, a clean slate.

Lamentations 3:22-23

Because of the Lord’s great love, we are not consumed,

for his compassions never fail; they are new every morning.

Great is Your faithfulness.

Updates, anyone?

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

A couple of weeks ago, I spent seven days on the Ultra Simple Diet, ( http://drhyman.com/downloads/UltraSimpleCompanion.pdf).  Then last week I decided to embark on the Minimalist Challenge (http://www.theminimalists.com/game/).  After four months on a pretty predictable routine, these activities have been worthwhile digressions.

The Ultra Simple Diet was an experiment suggested by a new doctor I am seeing — she practices Integrative Medicine which means that she is open to traditional Western medicine, but also finds value in using supplements — vitamins, minerals, and herbs,  believes that nutrition can impact health, and generally just thinks that there are a variety of ways to approach physical issues. The first time I saw her, she listened to me talk for an hour and then suggested we start with the Ultra Simple Diet to eliminate all foods that have been known to cause inflammation. After two years of seeing doctors who believe that medication is the only route to deal with my symptoms of fatigue, pain, stiffness, etc., I was willing to give it a try.

Last week I reported that I had not been miraculously healed. After further evaluation, I believe that I am feeling better than I have in a while.  Specifically, I have more energy.  Yesterday I got up, did my devotion, wrote my blog, listed a dozen or more books for sale on Amazon, tidied the house, ran to Target, then to the library, and stopped to get a haircut.  After that I went to the Post Office, then the drug store, then to two thrift stores to donate items and look for a couple of things. I then came home, took the dog on a short walk, made dinner — baked fish, kale chips, fried potatoes, and fresh veggies — and took a break to eat dinner with my family.  Finally, I listed several items on eBay, did a little more tidying and then read for a while before I was ready to go to sleep.  Did you notice anything? No rest.  No nap.  No junk TV. Guys, I wasn’t tired. I was energized.

I have resumed some of my regular diet, but I am doing it cautiously.  For one thing, I am still drinking one cup of green tea every day.  It’s not horrible.  I have done a little bit of research on its benefits and I think they are enough to warrant drinking one cup a day. I have also more than quadrupled my intake of magnesium and added a pretty significant dose of Vitamin D.  Finally, I am still starting each morning with the UltraInflam shake — the doctor recommended that we keep some things the same while I experiment with adding foods back.  And, just for your information, I have NOT run right back to coffee.  So far, I have only had 1-2 cups of black tea each afternoon. And that’s all I want.

Interesting, isn’t it?

And guys, as far as the Minimalist Challenge goes,  it hasn’t been difficult to let go of one, or two, or three, or four, or five, or six things each day.  I haven’t even had to look outside my office yet.  (And, I still haven’t dusted!) It’s actually quite freeing to let things go.  I am actually looking forward to tomorrow and getting rid of seven things. As the clutter has cleared from my desk, I more clearly see what remains — pictures of my family, my Bible study materials, a candle, writing supplies.

Re-evaluating my diet and paring down my possessions–not typical December activities for me.  Historically, December has been about indulging and acquiring.  But, you know, neither has left me feeling content.  And, maybe, if I am being honest, it has typically made me feel a little overwhelmed.  And feeling overwhelmed, has typically just caused me to dig deeper into my soldiering.

This Next Chapter continues to be a journey of discovering what I’ve been missing, what I’ve been doing wrong, and what I could be doing to live a healthier life. I know I can’t live on rice and vegetables alone, and I will never give away both of my copies of Five Smooth Stones, but I can and will continue to make adjustments that take me further away from soldiering, and draw me closer to a life of being still.

Romans 12:2

Do not conform to the patterns of this world,

but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.

Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is —

His good, pleasing, and perfect will.