Notes to My Siblings

When I first started having health challenges, one of the original challenges was severe claustrophobia and crowd anxiety. I mean, I used to be the girl who spoke practically no Spanish, flew to the Dominican in the middle of the night, cleared customs and took a taxi an hour ride to a missionary’s house by herself, no sweat. But when Lyme happened, if someone so much as got in line behind me at the grocery store, I had a panic attack because it was too crowded and I felt trapped. Sheesh. I went nowhere but work and home for a very long time. I thought I was reasonably over my fear of the grocery store, but lately it’s circled back around to freak me out. Lines. Waiting. Crowds. Being at other people’s mercy. I get sick to my stomach just knowing I have to go. (I know, it’s dumb. But tell my body that because it says it’s a VERY REAL DANGER RUN RUN RUN 🙄.) While trying to hype myself up to make the next grocery run, I realized... so far, I have not had to stand in more than a reasonab...

30 random things I’ve learned (or continue to learn 🤦🏼‍♀️) in 30 years in no particular order. 1. Life is hard. 2. Most of the time, there is more than one right way to do things. 3. The ocean is a place where everything is ok. 4. While excessive spending is not good, extreme saving will not make you happy or solve your problems. 5. Do not waste your singleness by having a one track find-a-spouse mind. DO something with your life that matters. 6. Try stuff. Don’t be a chicken. 7. Experiences > stuff. 8. Individual suffering is a soul refining process. 9. Achievements are not as measurable as American culture would have you think. 10. Suffering will either push you away from God or push you towards God, your choice. 11. Suffering as a family can either push you apart or knit you together, your choice. 12. When “they” say something, DO YOUR RESEARCH. Too many things are not as they appear or as people would like you to believe. 13. Believe your people even when you can’t see it. Abu...

With health challenges, I’ve sometimes wished for someone to say “wow, I’m impressed” when I do normal and mandatory things like go to work or go grocery shopping because honestly, sometimes accomplishing this feels like I’ve just finished an Iron Man triathlon or hell week with the Marines 🙄. I don’t think I’m the only one that normal things can feel like Mt. Everest for. I think the mom who’s baby is teething and hasn’t slept in a week and still manages to do the laundry and cook dinner wants to hear “good job, keep going”. I think the person struggling to get up in the morning, weighed down by depression wants to hear “good job, keep going”. I think the person who’s applied to a million jobs and still can’t find one wants to hear “good job, keep going”. Because “good job, keep going” means “I see you. I know what it took for you to _____.” And who doesn’t want to be seen?? Text someone right now whose life is a being a little extra and remind them that you see them ♥️. It matters.

As I’ve been thinking about what I want my focus to be this next year, the two words that come to mind are remember and expect. Currently, I don’t have a great relationship with those words. When your whole life (ok that’s a LITTLE dramatic but sometimes it sure feels that way can I get an amen 😫) seems like it’s been one. thing. after. another, it’s easy to get to a place where you can only remember the hard and you start to expect that the rest of life will continue to suck. You become apathetic. Cynical. And a delightful ray of sunshine to be around 🙄. I was reading Deuteronomy 8, in which Moses reminds the Israelites what God did for them in the forty years since leaving Egypt- forty years that, from a human point of view, seemed like a pointless, dead-end waste of time. It was miserable. It made no sense. And yet, God was in the details: they did not lack anything they needed. Moses also reminded them to expect what God had promised them, even though at that moment they were sti...

A big concept I’ve been wrestling with this year is the idea that in life, good and bad coexist. One does not cancel out the other. Good and bad can share the same space. They each stand on their own two feet and are evaluated independently. It’s not about deciding whether there was more good than bad and labeling it as “good” if the good points outweigh the bad (or visa versa). It is now past 6pm the day after Thanksgiving, and it has taken me about 24 hours of emotional turmoil and feeling decidedly not thankful to apply this concept to thankfulness and try using the word “and” instead of “but”. For example: 🍁 I’m grieved that my body still fails me AND I’m thankful for my husband’s love, stability, and goofiness. 🍁 I’m so over being tired AND I’m thankful for my family. 🍁 Chronic pain freaking sucks AND being an aunt is the best. ‘But’ says that the one cancels out the other. ‘And’ says that they are both independent and true things. So the thankfulness thing is going a little be...

I used to run 3-4 miles no sweat. Today I ran .5 miles and I’m currently on the floor in pain 😂. How times have changed lol. But you know how I know the whole me is healing? Today my first thought wasn’t “wow you’re so lame, remember when you ran a 5k three times a week 🙄”. My first thought was “DUDE you just ran a half mile! You’re totally getting better!” My physical self may not be (and may never be) what it used to be, but the fact that my first reaction wasn’t a criticism of myself means the rest of me is making great progress. Celebrate your accomplishments today, no “even ifs”, no “compared toos”. ♥️ 🎉

The first picture was taken a year ago. My body had started reacting to building air quality (CIRS), and that triggered several major life changes that people were very rude about (definitely Smashers 🙄). I had daily terrifying symptoms from CIRS. I was severely depressed and at this point had lost 15lbs in two weeks. My muscles were shockingly atrophied and I remember thinking my arms were going to fall off while holding the vegetables. A common thing people have said to me during my illness years is, “Well, you look great!” I think it’s maybe a reactionary phrase people use when they are confronted with an illness they can’t see clear indicators of and they want to add some positive encouragement but have no clue what else to say. (I think it’s also an indicator of what our society says we’re supposed to look like in order to “look great”. Hello people, I did NOT look great last summer, I looked like I’d narrowly escaped Auschwitz 🙄.) I’ve never struggled with the stereotypical bod...