Growing Our Life in Northern Michigan
It seems to me that whenever I am going to have a busy day that starts early, I don’t sleep well. I think the cats woke me several times in the night and then about 5 or 5:30 a.m. Luke sat above my head and poked, poked, poked me. I tried to cover my head with the blankets or to push him away, but he insistently kept poking as if he was doing some weird Cat Scan. My alarm was set to go off at 6:30 a.m., so I finally just sighed and got up. A little later I realized that the cats’ food dish was empty and that was why Luke was poking me. He’s a pretty smart cat.
We had to be at the hospital this morning at 9:15 for JJ’s PET Scan. We were told the scan would take two hours, so EJ and I went to the cafeteria for coffee and then sat at some tables in the lobby for a while. We talked and people watched. At one point, EJ saw me smile so he turned around to see why. When he saw the hospital employee with a hose connected to a backpack contraption, he said, “You are thinking about Ghostbusters!” I like that we can share humorous things almost with telepathy. After a bit we returned to the waiting room and we were told that JJ would be done in about 30 minutes–so we went back to the cafeteria for lunch. By the time we went back to the waiting room, JJ’s test was done so we all went home.
Now we wait for the results of the scan. I think waiting is really, really hard. We have been talking a lot about the possibility of JJ having cancer again. That would totally, totally suck.
I’ve always hated the in-between times. You know, the time between when something is about to happen but hasn’t yet happened. For example, it’s agonizing to be aware that there was a problem with JJ’s last CT scan but have to wait for the results of another medical scan to learn if he has cancer again or not. It’s also difficult–but not as difficult as cancer–to wait to see if you got the job you interviewed for or to wait to see if the sellers of a house you want to buy will accept your offer…and stuff like that.
I also hate living in if/then times: IF this thing happens THEN we will know which choice to make but there are so many things that need to happen that we have no idea what to do.
Last Friday EJ’s boss was pressuring him to give his two-weeks’ notice, but we can’t make any decisions until we find out the results of the Pet Scan JJ has on Wednesday. IF the results show that JJ is cancer free THEN we can breathe in relief and continue with our plans to move to the Emerald City. The next step will be for EJ to pass the physical for the new job. IF he doesn’t pass the physical THEN we won’t be able to move. IF he passes the physical THEN we have to wait for our finances to work out. I don’t know what we will do if he gets the job and the finances don’t work out and we can’t afford lodging. We can’t try to buy a house IF we don’t know whether JJ has cancer or not, or whether EJ officially has the job or not, or whether our finances work out or not. In Spring, many people start looking for new houses so the competition is fierce–which means that the closer it gets to Spring the less chance we have of getting a house. EJ might have to live up north alone for a while before we can join him, which means double payments on stuff, which we can’t do if our finances don’t work out. A lot of things have to work out perfectly–which so far seems NOT to be happening. We also have to take into consideration that once EJ starts his new job (if he does) then it will be 90 days before he has insurance. That is a long time to go without insurance when our son still has medical issues.
Because there are so many unknowns, we have no idea what to do and this makes me feel very up and down–one minute very scared that JJ has cancer again, the next minute feeling somewhat hopeful that maybe everything will work out, the next minute scared that nothing will work out and we are headed for disaster, one minute thinking that we will just have to stay here, the next minute feeling totally disheartened at that thought.
It’s torturous.
Part of the reason it’s torturous is because of the way that I am. I recently read an article called There’s Nothing Wrong With You You’re An Introvert, which described the ways that Introverts and Extroverts are different:
“[Introversion] is an innate temperament. It is not a choice. Introvert’s brains map differently. The Introvert Advantage talks about the brain composition of an introvert. The dominate pathway of blood flow is longer and more complex. Introverts use long-term memory more, therefore retrieving information takes longer…Introverts also tend to use the parasympathetic (put on the brakes) side of the autonomic nervous system while extroverts employ the (give it gas) sympathetic side resulting in more caution and less impulsiveness for the contemplative crowd…
External stimulation drains our energy. The inner-life of an introvert is already so rich and complex that outside activity raises our level of arousal quickly…Extroverts get pumped up from hits of socializing, technology and activity but introverts can easily become overwhelmed. Crowds, noise, interruptions, back to back activities and chaotic environments are huge energy drains. Each bit of stimulation takes our tank of energy down a notch until we are existing on fumes. The antidote to large doses of stimulation is to withdraw to a tranquil space.
Introversion and Extroversion can be sub-divided into 16 different personality types. I am sure there are many people who think that personality types are trivial and of little value, but I am an INFJ and we tend to embrace our personality label. I think it’s because we are the rarest of all personality types. the description of who we are is eerily accurate, and it makes us feel that we are finally understood.
INFJs are very complex people. We think deeply, are very observant, and see through many different perspectives. We have amazing insight into people. We feel intensely, are so empathetic that we are considered Empaths (people who actually feel the emotions and sufferings of others). We are very gentle, very compassionate, nonjudgmental, and forgiving, and are great listeners and counselors. We have high principles, love truth, honesty, and authenticity, and hate injustice.
We are paradoxical, meaning there are contradictory opposites in our personality. For example, we think deeply about everything, but we struggle to adequately explain our thoughts to others. While we are very introverted, we also need to connect to others so there is a struggle between being private AND needing to connect to people. We deeply understand others, but are seldom understood. We love deeply but can also be hurt deeply. Our love of truth and authenticity is difficult to endure in a world in which people wear masks.
I mention the struggles we are having in our life in connection to my personality type because I have been thinking about how personality affects life and faith. I see nothing as simple and everything as complex so I don’t consider it to be a simple cause and effect. Many things influence and affect how we live. I also know that I am only writing a portion of thoughts that could be written about this topic, and in writing about some things I am leaving out others. However, I am doing the best I can.
I sort of think of our personality types as our foundational beliefs, our operating systems, and then, of course, we can choose to use our powers for good or bad, choosing to become heroes or villains, Jedis or Siths. I ponder that who we are affects how we believe and live. EJ just said that he thinks that everyone always lives out what they actually believe. I mean, what a person truly believes will always come out in his actions.
Many times I don’t understand the faith of others (and sometimes I don’t even understand my own). I’m not talking about theological or doctrinal beliefs, but the way we daily live out our faith. I understand why people believe as they do, but at the same time I don’t comprehend why. Ok, I’m getting bogged down in complexity, so I will move on.
I am an INFJ as well as a HSP (Highly Sensitive Person), I deeply and intensely feel my own emotions as well as those of others. I feel the suffering of others to such an extent that I almost fainted several times during JJ’s cancer battle last year. In fact, since his battle with cancer,
I find my sensitivity to violence, suffering, pain, sorrow has increased to almost unbearable levels. I have to limit my exposure to daily news and I have to be careful about what movies I watch because suffering–even of fictional characters–affects me so deeply. The uncertainty and chaos in our lives is so stressful that sometimes I feel as if I cannot breathe. I do not think this intense emotion is because my faith is weak, but because of my empathetic personality.
Another part of my personality that affects my life and faith is my need for authenticity. When I honestly state that I am afraid, stressed, sad, or discouraged, most people say “have faith” or “be strong” or, when JJ was fighting cancer, “don’t ever let him see you cry.” EJ, JJ, and I actually find more strength in being honest about our fears and discouragement than in pretended strength. There are days when I’m strong and can encourage my guys, and days when they are stronger and encourage me. We help each other face fear and sadness, disappointment and discouragement.
I honestly think that it’s extremely difficult to know how to comfort those who suffering. Much of the time I feel clueless. I think most people (including me) are genuinely doing their best so I generally appreciate loving efforts even if it’s “clumsy.” However, parts of me always wonders, “So are they saying that I ought to hide my true feelings with a fake smile?” Isn’t that lying? Deceitful? Fake? Hypocrisy? What’s wrong with being real? Doesn’t the Bible teach us to speak the truth? Doesn’t it say that the TRUTH will set us free–not comforting lies?
I find it very difficult to pretend to be what I am not. Not being real makes me feel as if I can’t breathe–as if my spirit is dying inside. Telling people that I am struggling and being told that I need to have more faith, or to be strong, or that “everyone suffers,” or that when they suffered they sang praises every day… doesn’t make me feel stronger and it doesn’t eliminate my fear or discouragement. It just makes me feel very alone, as if I’ve been shoved into a dark dungeon to suffer alone. The friends who are most helpful to me are those who are willing to interact face-to-face without either of us wearing masks. They are people who have also suffered deeply, who enter my pain with a quiet, “I understand” and weep with me.

Or friends who calmly listen while I rage that I’m so hurt and angered by betrayal and injustice that I’m thinking of becoming a Sith. “Have you joined the Dark Side yet?” my friend asked the next day. “I hear they have cookies.” I laughed because there was something so incongruous about the Dark Side having cookies. These are the friends who best help me regain strength.
Growing up, I always heard theological teachings that when Jesus died on the cross, God split the Temple curtain to indicate that we now had direct access to Him. Not long ago, I heard from a Jewish believer that Jews have always been a very passionate people and that in Bible times they tore their clothes in grief when a loved one died. She said that when Yeshua (Jesus) died, His Father’s agony was so great that He caused the sky to darken, and the earth to shake, and He tore His clothes (the Temple curtain) in grief. While I can understand the theological implications of a torn Temple curtain, I can relate more closely to the emotion of the Father’s intense grief. I, too, would want to cause the sky to darken, and the earth to shake, and to tear my clothes in agonizing grief if my son, my only son, died. I can tell such a Father that I’m terrified my only son might have cancer again.
I understand that there are reasons not to share struggles, not every person is safe to share with, and sometimes it just gets frustrating to share deep things and not be understood. I can’t really say when a person should share or not share. However, I know that many share only their strengths because they want to display “Christlikeness.” I’m not sure how Christlike it is to wear a mask. I wonder if we’d be more Christlike if we took off the masks and were who we are. I also know people who deliberately wrap themselves in false appearances to make themselves look better than they are so they can deceive, gain position, or abuse. Maybe more harm is caused by hiding struggles then sharing them. I agree with Larry Crabb in “The Safest Place on Earth”
We often hear that brokenness is the pathway to a deeper relationship with God, but we rarely see it modeled. I sometimes think we want others to believe we know God by demonstrating how unbroken we are…Everything in spiritual community is reversed from the world’s order. It is our weakness, not our competence, that moves others; our sorrows, not our blessings, that break down the barriers of fear and shame that keep us apart; our admitted failures, not our paraded successes, that bind us together in hope.
Even though I believe that God works everything for our good, and even though I think God sustains and gives peace, I also think that having faith doesn’t mean that life is never scary, painful, overwhelming, or exhausting. I think that to expect someone to be ☺Happy☺ and ♫ filled with song ♪ when she learns that her son has cancer, or when a friend betrays him, or they face financial ruin, or the millions of other possible problems and tragedies is…illogical and without compassion.
I also think it’s unBiblical. The Bible says that “For everything there is a season, a right time for every intention under heaven…” including “a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance.” (Ecclesiastes 3:1,4) I find it ironic that even though many seem to think a Christian ought to always be happy, when a Christian is in pain, he often turns to the portions of the Bible that are raw and emotional, such as Psalms and Job. Job, who is said to have had GREAT FAITH, said things such as:
“My sighing serves in place of my food,
and my groans pour out in a torrent;
for the thing I feared has overwhelmed me,
what I dreaded has happened to me.
I have no peace, no quiet, no rest;
and anguish keeps coming.” (Job 3:23-25)
“Therefore I will not restrain my mouth
but will speak in my anguish of spirit
and complain in my bitterness of soul. (Job 7:11)
“If I say, ‘I’ll forget my complaining,
I’ll put off my sad face and be cheerful,’
then I’m still afraid of all my pain,
and I know you will not hold me innocent.
I will be condemned,
so why waste my efforts? (Job 9:27-29)
Job’s friends gave him all the spiritual answers, saying the things that we, today, would tell someone who says the things Job said. Yet, at the very end of the book of Job,
After Adonai had spoken these words to Job, Adonai said to Elifaz the Teimani, “My anger is blazing against you and your two friends, because, unlike my servant Job, you have not spoken rightly about me. So now, get yourselves seven young bulls and seven rams, go to my servant Job, and offer up for yourselves a burnt offering. My servant Job will pray for you — because him I will accept — so that I won’t punish you as your boorishness deserves; because you have not spoken rightly about me, as my servant Job has.”
Job’s friends gave all the spiritual answers, yet God considered them much less righteous than Job, who was honestly raw and emotional. It’s something to consider. As I get older, I give advice less and less because I realize that sometimes the best thing to do is simply listen. I like what Rabbi Ahron Hoch said in an article about suffering:
People approach the topic of suffering from two separate perspectives. One is the “intellectual agenda:” A person is bothered by this issue and wants to intellectually understand it. The other is the “emotional agenda:” A person may right now be suffering (or know someone who is suffering), and it is bothersome emotionally. It’s important to understand that these two agendas don’t always coincide. Someone with an intellectual agenda wants answers, whereas someone with an emotional agenda is looking for relief…
…Now when someone is in the midst of suffering, that’s not the time to offer answers. It’s a time to listen and empathize and say things that can provide comfort. I did not try to give any of these people the answers we will be discussing because when a situation is so emotionally wrenching it’s not the time for answers. Rather it’s a time to show compassion and empathy and be with the person as best you can. So let me just state in advance that we will only deal [in the article] with the “intellectual agenda.” If there’s anyone going through a painful time and is looking for a sense of relief, I am skeptical whether these intellectual answers will offer any kind of relief.
Another thing that I don’t understand about others’ faith is what appears to be a belief that God will give us whatever we want. While I believe that God is good and loving and answers prayer, I don’t think He is a genii who gives me everything I wish for. Neither do I think of Him as a Grandpa God who spoils me and then sends me home with a pat on my head. I don’t think that all we need is faith and a little bit of pixie dust to help us fly. Nor do I think that God’s purpose is to merely “make us happy.” Instead, I think, as C.S. Lewis wrote,
You asked for a loving God: you have one. The great spirit you so lightly invoked, the ‘lord of terrible aspect,’ is present: not a senile benevolence that drowsily wishes you to be happy in your own way, not the cold philanthropy of a conscientious magistrate, nor the care of a host who feels himself responsible for the comfort of his guest, but the consuming fire itself, the love that made the worlds.
C.S. Lewis wrote that God’s love “is quite relentless in its determination that we shall be cured of those sins, at whatever cost to us, at whatever cost to Him.” He also wrote:
“We are perplexed to see misfortune falling upon decent, inoffensive, worthy people–on capable, hard-working mothers of families or diligent, thrifty little trades-people, on those who have worked so hard, and so honestly, for their modest stock of happiness and now seems to be entering on the enjoyment of it with the fullest right….Let me implore the reader to try to believe, if only for the moment, that God, who made these deserving people, may really be right when He thinks that their modest prosperity and the happiness of their children are not enough to make them blessed: that all this must fall from them in the end, and that if they have not learned to know Him they will be wretched. And therefore He troubles them, warning them in advance of an insufficiency that one day they will have to discover. The life to themselves and their families stands before them and the recognition of their need; He makes that life less sweet to them….the creature’s illusion of self-sufficiency must, for the creature’s sake, be shattered; and…God shatters it.”
It would be easy to say that “I want what God wants for me no matter what it costs because it will be better in the end.” I have actually prayed that prayer over the years and meant it. However, although I think God’s love is greater than I could imagine, I also think that many times it’s scarier than I want. To be honest, although deep inside I want God to love me no matter what it costs, I’m not always sure I can survive it. When facing heartache after heartache, problem after problem, struggle after struggle, there comes a point in which a person, no matter how strong she or her faith is, reaches a breaking point. At that point, when I’m utterly exhausted, I just want a break. I want to plead, “Love me less, God. I can’t survive more.”
I don’t understand faith that doesn’t honestly wrestle with profound questions about God, faith, and suffering. When faced with terrible tragedies like the Holocaust, or with a child dying of cancer, or the myriad other human tragedies, I think we ought to wrestle with questions. I don’t think questions threaten God or weaken faith. In fact, faith is often strengthened by honest questions and wrestlings. Some of my favorite psalms were written by Asaph, who was very honest with his questions:
But as for me, I lost my balance,
my feet nearly slipped,
when I grew envious of the arrogant
and saw how the wicked prosper.
For when their death comes, it is painless;
and meanwhile, their bodies are healthy;
they don’t have ordinary people’s troubles,
they aren’t plagued like others…
Yes, this is what the wicked are like;
those free of misfortune keep increasing their wealth.
It’s all for nothing that I’ve kept my heart clean
and washed my hands, staying free of guilt;
for all day long I am plagued;
my punishment comes every morning.
If I had said, “I will talk like them,”
I would have betrayed a generation of your children.
When I tried to understand all this,
I found it too hard for me — (Ps 73)
On the day of my distress I am seeking Adonai;
my hands are lifted up;
my tears flow all night without ceasing;
my heart refuses comfort.
When remembering God, I moan;
when I ponder, my spirit fails. (Selah)
You hold my eyelids [and keep me from sleeping];
I am too troubled to speak.
I think about the days of old,
the years of long ago;
in the night I remember my song,
I commune with myself, my spirit inquires:
“Will Adonai reject forever?
will he never show his favor again?
Has his grace permanently disappeared?
Is his word to all generations done away?
Has God forgotten to be compassionate?
Has he in anger withheld his mercy?” (Ps. 77)
In both these psalms, after wrestling with these questions, Asaph went on to deeper faith. In neither case is there any indication that God was upset by his questions. In fact, it seems to me that He helped Asaph work through them.
A love of truth, honesty, integrity is another of my and EJ’s personality traits. EJ has been working hard to get home improvement projects done in case everything works out and we are actually able to relocate. It’s difficult because he suffers from chronic back pain. A Christian friend told him that he ought to not worry about doing a good job, just slap the drywall up there, and let the next owners of the house worry about fixing it. But both EJ and I believe that integrity demands that we ought to do as good a job as we are capable of doing as a gift to the next owners. We had to fix many “sloppy” things the previous owners of our house did, including removing the lamp cord in the wall that they used as electrical wiring. We don’t want to do the same to the next owners. Integrity causes us to not cheat people, not to be dishonest, not to seek revenge, and so on. I cannot understand how any Christian can live without high integrity and it distresses me when they don’t.
Just for the record, I think there are people who genuinely love God and live righteously, but I also don’t think that everyone who claims to know God actually does. I tend to look at my own strengths and weaknesses as honestly as I can (another INFJ trait) and if I see weaknesses, flaws, errors, I do my best to face them and correct them rather than pretend they don’t exist. That’s all I’m really doing in posts such as this one.
I am not always sure whether I have the stronger faith or others do, but I can see how my personality type affects my life and faith. And I will honestly confess that the chaos and uncertainty of my life right now is scary and stressful and exhausting and causes me to wrestle with questions of faith. I’m an INFJ. That’s who I am.
This week has been a terrible, awful, no good week.
For as long as I can remember, we have suffered difficulty after difficulty after difficulty. When one difficult ends another begins. I don’t mean this to be a “poor me” lament. Everyone has problems and many are much worse than mine. Also, I have many blessings: I have a husband who loves me, a terrific son, a computer, a house full of books, cuddling cats, and I have enough for my needs and many of my wants. However, JJ’s cancer battle especially wearied us, and we find ourselves weary, dispirited, and unmotivated.
So we decided to pursue our dream of relocating to an area where we have always wanted to live. It’s an area that has a lot of natural beauty and fewer cities. We want EJ to get out of the stressful smoky factory that is affecting his health. We want to get away from my family. We want JJ to have more opportunities. We want to live out in the country with more space, in a house that doesn’t need lots of work. We have lots of reasons for wanting to relocate.
I told my friend that we NEED this move. It’s essential for our emotional well-being. It’s not something frivolous like a bag of chocolate. She said, “Uhm, TJ, chocolate is not frivolous. Chocolate is essential.” I said, “Ok, well, maybe you are right. So this move is not frivolous like Netflix is frivolous…wait, Netflix is not frivolous, it helped us when JJ was battling cancer.” She agreed, “Netflix is NOT frivolous. And don’t you dare say that coffee is frivolous.” I told her that I would NEVER say that coffee is frivolous. So maybe this move is not frivolous like buying a new dress. “Who on earth would want a new dress?” she asked. “Exactly,” I said. “This move is not frivolous like a new dress. It is ESSENTIAL and VITAL to us. We need something GOOD in our lives, a new beginning and a fresh start. We feel our spirits will absolutely wither without it.”
In January JJ and I urged EJ to put his resume on the Internet and after a few days a company in our dream area contacted EJ. (JJ and I were not expecting any results quite so quickly.) EJ had phone interviews with two people at the company and then they asked him to come for an interview. I was originally going to go with EJ while JJ stayed to care for the pets, but then I encouraged JJ to go instead so that he could do something fun and see the area we wanted to live. He loved it there. He kept exclaiming over the beauty and saying “We have GOT to move here!” His spirit was more joyous than we have seen in a long time.
After a couple of days, the company offered EJ a job, although there are still a few hoops he has to jump through before he officially gets the job. And there are also things that we have to work through: Like where EJ is going to live until we can find a house, and how we are going to afford to pay for lodging until JJ and I and the pets can move there, and many other things. We were getting excited about moving, although we were also cautious because we have had dreams not work out before.
As soon as we began pursuing this dream, EJ’s overtime suddenly dried up. EJ has had to work overtime for years, and suddenly the company said “No more” at the very time that we really, really need extra money.
EJ’s current company tends to fire people when it’s even rumored that they are looking for a new job. Therefore, we have been very careful and have told very few people about the job opportunity. We also discussed at what point EJ should tell his company he has a new job. Timing is absolutely vital for us. However, when EJ returned to work after taking a few days off for the interview, many people asked “What are you doing here?” EJ said, “Uhhh, I work here!” EJ’s boss told him that a co-worker had found out about our plans and had laughingly told everyone one that “EJ won’t be back. He has a new job.” Since this man has worked in the company for years, this “telling” was not mere “thoughtlessness.” He knew EJ could be fired. EJ losing his job before he has a new one or before we were ready for the news to be told could cause us severe financial damage as well as affect our medical coverage, which could have serious effects on our ability to pay for JJ’s continuing medical procedures.
The potential damage is not just baseless fear, but a genuine threat. Every couple of months, JJ has to have CT scans and blood tests to make sure his body remains free of cancer. He also has to have his port flushed so it doesn’t get blocked. The port remains in his body for at least a year after his treatment ends until there is reasonable certainty the cancer won’t return. JJ had his CT scan on Tuesday in preparation of an appointment with his oncologist in March. A few hours after the scan, the oncologist called JJ to tell him that the scan revealed a shadow on his abdomen, which means that the cancer could have returned. The oncologist arranged for a Pet Scan to double-check. I can’t even begin to describe the distress we feel at the possibility that JJ could have cancer again. We wonder how we could endure going through another cancer battle.
When EJ got home from work tonight, he said that his boss is pressing him to give his two week’s notice. But we can’t do that because we don’t even know if EJ has a new job yet. And we can’t risk having no insurance if JJ needs more treatment. We wouldn’t have to worry about any of these things if it weren’t for the actions of EJ’s co-worker. He has done great harm to my family. What cuts deeply is that we know this co-worker and his family personally and had counted them our friends. Never would we do such terrible things to anyone, not even to our worst enemy.
Right now our lives fill like a tangled mess of uncertainty and stress.
In addition to all these difficult things this week, today I slipped when I was carrying an armload of firewood into the house. The wood flew up and hit me in the mouth. My mouth, both inside and outside, is ripped and bruised. It is painful and I look terrible.
It’s been a very difficult week.
We need some miracles.
This morning I was mean to my husband.
Well, not really.
I put on my coat, hats, boots, and mittens intending to go out and shovel the snow 12+ inches of snow. EJ said, “I don’t want you to shovel the snow. I will do it after breakfast. I’m starving.” I asked him what he wanted for breakfast and he asked, “What are my choices?” So I gave him some suggestions and told him that HE could fix his own breakfast while I went outside and shoveled the snow. EJ wants to do all the hard work for me but he suffers greatly from chronic back pain and shoveling the snow would not be good for him.
So while EJ got dressed and fixed himself breakfast, I shoveled the sidewalk from the house to the street and then I worked at digging out the Tardis Buggy and the HHR. EJ came outside and wanted to borrow the shovel for a minute. I reluctantly handed it to him but when he headed for the sidewalk I reminded him that the Village always snowblows the sidewalks so he didn’t need to do it. I insisted he give me back the shovel and then I refused to let him have it anymore.

I went back to shoveling out the vehicles while EJ began brushing the snow off them. Our neighbor plowed out his drive with his tractor and then he came over and cleared a space next to our stone wall and also cleared the driveway between the vehicles. When he was finished, he went over and plowed out another neighbor’s driveway. We so appreciated it that we gave him a loaf of the bread I made yesterday as a thank you.
We came into the house and after we had rested a bit, I went out to bring in the day’s supply of firewood. The woodshed used to be a grape arbor. A couple of summers ago we put sides on it and had hoped to put a simple roof on it, but haven’t gotten to it yet so we just covered it with a tarp. When I opened the door of the woodshed, a bunch of snow slid off the tarp and gave me a frozen shower. It made me laugh.
After EJ left for work, I planned on taking Danny for his walk, but he seemed utterly uninterested so I decided to just stay home. I was sort of tired from all the physical work anyway.
We are still pursuing our dream. We are doing what we can to move our dream forward and asking God to please handle the rest for us because here are a lot of major things that need to all come together for it to happen. We are all really excited but also very nervous. Sometimes we think we can’t do it and other times we say “We can DO IT!” This could be a wonderful thing or a disaster so we are taking a risk. Sometimes it feels to me like the old “Let’s Make a Deal” game show. Do we risk what we have and choose what’s behind the door? Or do we take a chance on a dream? It’s really sort of scary, but then I think that maybe I am ready to have an adventure.
EJ and I are not normally risk takers. However, we have felt in the doldrums for quite some time. Doldrums means a state or period of inactivity, stagnation, or slump. Interestingly, the Doldrums is the region of calm winds, centered slightly north of the equator and between the two belts of trade winds, which meet there and neutralize each other. The crews of sailing ships dreaded the doldrums because their ships were often becalmed there, making no progress. That’s how we’ve been feeling. We’ve been wanting to do something new, to have fresh winds fill our lives and move us forward.
We’ve had a quite a mild winter. A couple of weeks ago we had a thaw and the little bit of snow we had melted. Then the temperatures dropped and the puddles froze. Since then Danny and I have had adventures slipping and sliding on our walks. The first day I fell down once and so did he. After that, we were more careful–although we had some close calls.
Our back yard has also been a sheet of ice. I have been very careful when I bring in the firewood. I could imagine myself slipping and an armload of wood battering me.
Last night it began to snow and it has snowed and snowed and snowed all day. The meteorologists say we could get as much as 15 inches of snow. I hope so. I think it’s about time we had some snow.
The birds were feasting at the feeders all day. I saw a few squirrels too. They were sitting in the feeders all covered with snow.
Danny and I went for our walk early this afternoon. None of the sidewalks had been shoveled so he jumped through the snow until got tired of it and then he decided to walk in the road where the snow wasn’t so deep. The snow gets packed into his paws so every now and then he stopped to pull it out. Maybe I should get him some boots.
When we were nearing home, I saw people snowmobiling down the village streets. Later the Village came through and snowblowed the sidewalks. They usually do that when it snows so we only have to shovel from our house to the street. The little gas station is closing at 8 p.m. tonight because of the weather, and a lot of schools are already closing for tomorrow. EJ just said that a co-worker posted on FB that she’s been shoveling for an hour and still can’t find her car. Ha ha!
I went outside a couple of times this afternoon with a ruler to measure the snow. The first time I measured we had seven inches. The second time EJ and Danny went out with me and we measured about 9-10 inches. Danny didn’t really want to be outside.
At 7:30 p.m. EJ, JJ, Danny and I went outside to measure the snow again. This third time the snow reached to the top of the ruler. We decided to all go for a walk to the party store. We took Danny and I waited outside with him while the guys went into the store.
The weather outside is frightful,
But the fire is so delightful.
And since we’ve no place to go,
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!
When we weren’t out in the snow, EJ and I were busy in the house. I cleared out some of the files in the file cabinet, did my regular chores, and made bread. EJ made breakfast, got a stew cooking in the crock pot, and started working on the upstairs bathroom.
Years and years ago, before I moved out of my parent’s house, I watched a marathon on television.
Actually, I don’t remember if I watched the whole race. I only remember one scene.
The very last runner in a marathon was approaching the finish line. It was night. I suspect the other runners had finished their races hours before. I don’t remember if any of the crowd was still around to cheer this runner on. There must have been a few because the cameras were capturing her ordeal.
The runner was so beyond exhaustion that she was staggering, stumbling, and weaving across the road. At some point she had lost control of her bowels and she had soiled herself–probably more than once. She seemed barely coherent.
She was an utterly pathetic mess.
I thought she was amazing. She is more inspiring to me than all the runners who had crossed the finish line before her because even when she had no strength left, she didn’t quit. She ran on sheer guts, determination, and endurance.
She is an example to me of courage and faith.
I am an INFJ personality type. INFJs are described as having uncanny insight into people and situations. We “readily grasp the hidden psychological stimuli behind the more observable dynamics of behavior and affect. We have an amazing ability to deduce the inner workings of the mind, will and emotions of others…We see two people in everyone: The public persona, the outer shell, which everyone else sees but also a deeper sense or impression of people, penetrating appearances and revealing hidden motives and intentions.”
I shared that as a preamble to the fact that I am going to make some generalizations about what I’ve observed about people. However, I think people are deep and complicated so we have to be careful about generalizations which can be too simplistic and tell only part of a story. Because I am a personality type who has insight into people and situations, my insights might be worth considering, but because they are only generalizations, I also think they don’t tell the whole complex story of who people are. I just want to make clear that I am aware that these are generalizations.
I often see a disconnect between what people say they believe and what they actually live out. I think this is true of everyone. EVERYONE has knowledge of things that they don’t yet practice. In a way, growth is both a journey and a destination. We first must be aware that a place exists before we can try to get there. When we try to become something we aren’t yet, we are reaching for something that we don’t yet have. Therefore, we live in a state of disconnect between where we want to be and where we actually are. However, the difference between someone who is genuine and someone who is a hypocrite is that the genuine person is aware and honest about the fact that he doesn’t yet practice what he is striving to become while a hypocrite pretends that he already has it or is it. A genuine person will put effort into changing himself while a hypocrite will put effort into maintaining appearances.
When JJ was younger, we watched Disney’s The Hunchback of Notre Dame together. We discussed the question of “which is the monster and which is the man?” Is the monster the one who looks like a monster or the one who has a monstrous character? Shortly after we watched the movie, we went to our local party store and I gave JJ money to give to the new cashier, who had obviously been in some horrific accident because his face was twisted like a Halloween mask and he had a hook for a hand. JJ bravely gave the money to the man who took it with his hook. As we walked home, he asked about the man and I explained again that how a person looks isn’t necessarily a reflection of his character. We need to judge a person on who he actually is rather than how he appears.
Larry Crabb, in his book, The Safest Place on Earth, wrote, “We often hear that brokenness is the pathway to a deeper relationship with God, but we rarely see it modeled. I sometimes think we want others to believe we know God by demonstrating how unbroken we are…Worse, in many eyes, to admit brokenness means to admit a poor relationship with God. ”
I believe this is true. At some point, even though many Christians will talk about brokenness and vulnerability, in actual fact if a person reveals that he is discouraged or tired or upset, or in any way struggling, many perceive him as being weak in faith rather than strong. It’s possible that the person doesn’t have weaker faith, he just is more honest.
One woman I knew said she didn’t think Christian leaders could reveal struggles and weaknesses because it would “lead people astray and cause them to stumble from the faith.” I know many feel that way, but I think that’s arrogant and deceptive and models hypocrisy. The Bible itself is very honest in its description of people, revealing both strengths and weakness. I think people are helped more by genuineness than pretenses of perfection and that God often works through people in ways we’d never imagine.
Years ago, when JJ was very young, I suffered from chronic sinus problems as well as Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. CFS is a debilitating illness. A normal person can work hard and then quickly bounce back after they rest. A person with CFS is like elastic with no elasticity. They don’t bounce back. On my best days, I could cook meals and do light housekeeping. On my worse days I would wait for EJ to get up for the day and then go back to bed. One day at church, a man (who didn’t know me well) told me that a husband needs a strong wife and I was not being strong. He felt I was arrogant for not praying for healing. I went home and wept. He had no idea the strength and faith it took to get through each day. Appearances can be deceiving. What he assumed was weakness was actually strength and faith. I believe that sometimes God heals and sometimes He doesn’t–it all depends on what He wants to accomplish in a person’s life. It takes great faith to believe God can heal, but I think that it takes as much faith to trust God through a difficult situation. I believed very strongly that God had something very important for me to learn through the illness so I did not pray for healing. I learned to trust God for strength for the moment, to praise Him in the midst of suffering, to deal with deep-rooted fears (of not being good enough), and to comprehend His love at deeper levels. On the outside my faith might have looked weak, tired, and messy but God was actually strengthening and renewing me on the inside. There came a time when God suddenly moved multiple friends to start praying for me and then He healed me, which was awesome, but I think the greater miracle was what He did within me during that time.
I think that genuineness forges a connection of understanding between people. Not only can I more easily talk to people who are genuine, but I have found that people are drawn to me when I am genuine. I can’t count the number of times that people have said, “I came to you with this problem because I know you have suffered/struggled with this and I know you understand.” I agree with Larry Crabb that “Everything in spiritual community is reversed from the world’s order. It is our weakness, not our competence, that moves others; our sorrows, not our blessings, that break down the barriers of fear and shame that keep us apart; our admitted failures, not our paraded successes, that bind us together in hope.”
I also believe that not everyone who says he’s a believer is actually one. In 2 Timothy 3, the Bible says that in the Last Days many will “retain the outer form of religion but deny its power.” In other words, they will appear to be what they are not. I have met people who genuinely love God, and I have met those whose spiritually was merely a pretense–who appear flawless, who teach classes, lead groups, say all the right things at church but then go home and abuse their families. True spirituality isn’t this way. I understand that there are reasons that a person might not reveal every detail about certain situations publicly. However, I do believe that the more closely a person walks with God, the less pretense is in his life.

I started this post describing the very last runner in a marathon race. If she was to stand next to the winner, she would appear to be the weaker of the two–a pathetic mess. But was she? The winner obviously had more physical strength and stamina, but I think it took a great deal more inner courage and strength and determination for the last runner to finish the race. And who knew what other obstacles the woman had to overcome in order to run? Her strength inspires me.
Adonai doesn’t see the way humans see — humans look at the outward appearance, but Adonai looks at the heart.” (1 Samuel 16:7)

I love Reader’s Digest Condensed Books. I have never, ever bought one new. I always find them at yard sales for 25 to 50 cents each. I love them because there are about four books condensed in each edition and I can expose myself to a variety of authors and stories that I might never have found. I have discovered authors in these books that have become favorites.
One book I found in a Reader’s Digest Condensed Books years ago is called Flanagan’s Run by Tom McNab. It’s not a bad story, but I think I might have read it once and forgotten it if it hadn’t been about a grueling journey across the country. It caused me to ponder a lot. If I were to make a list of books that changed me, this one would be on it.
The book is available at Amazon.com, which describes the story this way:
It is depression-era America and notorious huckster, Flanagan, plans the ultimate race, reeling in contestants with the promise of a glittering jackpot prize. Two thousand audacious hopefuls line up at the starting line from every walk of life and all ends of the globe, each with something to prove. As they run themselves ragged across America, they come up against numerous hazards, including the precipitous Rockies, shady mobsters and crooked officials. Their different stories, ambitions and dreams converge through a shared determination which will inspire you to push on to the finishing line.
As the race began, participants formed mostly informal alliances–small groups of runners who joined together to encourage and support each other through the race. The story centered on one of those alliances, which was headed by old Doc Cole, a veteran of other marathons. He advised the members of his group on what to wear, the necessity of keeping hydrated, how to pace themselves, and how to care for their bodies. As the race continued, the teammates formed a close bond and they provided encouragement and support to each other. Sometimes teammates ran together for several hours and sometimes one gave a word of encouragement as he ran past the other.

The book made me ponder the importance of having a group of friends to provide encouragement and support. I know that my family gained a lot of strength from friends all around the world who prayed for us, encouraged us, cried and laughed with us, and provided us with practical help while JJ was battling cancer. They even took pictures of themselves in silly hats to make JJ laugh. Even their pets wore silly hats. We couldn’t have made it without our friends.
I also understand the importance of not just receiving support, but also giving it to others who are going through difficult times. I have known several people who were so focused on their own struggles that they became very self-absorbed and without compassion toward others. These “poor me victims” are miserable to be around.
I love a story a family friend tells of a time when he was complaining about all his struggles and problems to a co-worker. The older man listened and then said, “That is a sad story. Everyone has a sad, sad story.” Then he shared his own sad story, and the tale was so heartbreaking that our friend was ashamed for complaining about his own problems. He realized that all his problems were as nothing compared to those of this other guy.
One time an on-line friend asked advice at a forum about a situation she was struggling with. I had similar struggles, so I messaged her to encourage her and we began to share our experiences with each other. When I heard her story, I emailed “Wow. Your story is very horrible. Compared to what you are going through, my own struggles are minor.” As I sent the email to her, I received one from her in my inbox. When I read it, I laughed because she had pretty much written the same thing as I had: “Wow. Your story is very horrible. Compared to what you are going through, my own struggles are minor.” We laughed.
Things things all taught me that I’m not the only one struggling, and that while sometimes I need the support of others, they also need my support. Reaching out to others helps keep our own problems in perspective. I’ve also observed that sometimes people are in our lives for years and sometimes people enter our lives to give brief encouragement before they disappear–like medical staff in the hospital or a stranger who stops to help change a tire.
Another thing that Flanagan’s Run taught me is that every participant ran their own race. When a runner in the story was struggling with a foot injury, a teammate ran alongside her to help her pace herself so she could reach the next checkpoint on time, but he didn’t attempt to carry her and he didn’t risk disqualifying himself by keeping beside her the whole way. They both were responsible for running their own race. They were both in it to win.
This is important.
EJ and I are both compassionate people who love to help others. Once we let a guy who was going through a difficult time live with us for a while. The guy, who was about our age, had lost his wife (divorce) and his job. After he moved in with us, he spent his time sleeping, reading, playing on the computer, and sometimes talked about digging up my gardens, planting vegetables, and using our house for a soup kitchen. Uh….no.
We talked to a counselor we knew about this and she said the guy was living like a teenager with no responsibilities. She counseled, “You need to tell him that he can only stay with you if he agrees to spend every week day looking for a job. Looking for a job needs to be his eight-hour-a-day job.” She continued, “If he is serious about getting his life back on track, he will readily accept these boundaries. If he only wants to live off you without responsibilities then he will manipulatively threaten to move out in hopes that you will beg him to stay.” So EJ went home and told the guy that he needed to look for a job starting that Monday. The guy threatened to move out, blah, blah, blah, everything the counselor had warned he would try. Forewarned, EJ did not allow himself to be manipulated and the guy moved out the next day.
I’ve also had other friends who were wounded and struggling. I have compassionately listened to them for hours, we have rearranged our schedules for them, and we did all we could to help them. But all they really did was moan about their problems, and they never changed anything, and when I couldn’t fill the empty places within them, they moved on to others who tried to support them…and then on to others. All my help and encouragement didn’t do much of anything for them.
I began to learn that although we can give encourage, advice, and support, we all really are responsible for running our own races. We can’t run others’ races for them. The guy who lived with us needed to take responsibility for his own life. We couldn’t support him for the rest of his life. Neither did we want a soup kitchen in our home. Our one friend needed to stop expecting people to financially and emotionally prop her up, and she needed to get a job, get out on her own, and provide for her children even though that was hard. She’s hurting herself by not reaching for independence. My other friend needed to stop focusing only on her own emotional wounds. She needed to begin the hard work of healing and to reach out in compassion toward others. These people are all emotionally crippled and living miserable lives because they wanted to be carried by others.
At the same time, I always try to keep in mind that no one can carry me either. Yes, I have gone through some difficult things in my life, and, yes, I sometimes need the support of friends, but it’s my responsibility to face problems courageously and with faith, to overcome difficulties, and to reach for growth and healing. No one can do this for me.
I can’t carry others through life and they can’t carry me. We can advise and encourage each other, but in the end, we each must run our own races. We each run alone together.
That is what I learned from Flanagan’s Run.
Every day I take my dog Danny for a walk. Usually we just walk around town. I used to walk him a mile out into the countryside and a mile back, but a few years ago we had a really hot summer and on one of our walks Danny laid down in lawn sprinkler puddle and it took forever to get him to move again.
One summer several years ago–none of us can remember just how long ago–I started walking long distances.
I think I started taking longer walks because one morning I looked out the window and saw that EJ had bought another beater truck. I had told him I was tired of old beater vehicles and, yet, here was another parked in the driveway. I was upset so I took a long walk to work off my anger.
I must pause to explain that most of the time I didn’t mind EJ’s old vehicles. They were cheap vehicles and sometimes they were kind of fun. For example, one of our first vans reminded us of an old aunt, so we named her “Aunt Myrtle.” From that time forward, every time we bought an old van, we gave her an “Aunt” name. We had Aunt Mable, who wheezed and gasped up every tiny incline. We would hold our breath and encourage, “Come on, Aunt Mable, you can MAKE IT!” She was a persevering old dear who faithfully got us wherever we needed to go until one day EJ looked at her and said, “Dang, you are UGLY!” After that, Aunt Mable refused to drive in anything other than first gear or reverse so EJ drove her to the junk yard. He still feels bad about insulting her.

Our favorite Aunt was the red van EJ bought from his friend’s brother, who had used it in his llama shearing business. She had a strong engine and was very spunky. We thought it was uniquely funny that she smelled strongly of llama. I mean, how many people can brag about driving a smelly llama van? Of course, most people probably wouldn’t want to brag of such a thing. Anyway, we named her Aunt Dolly Llama. Regretfully we had to get rid of her when exhaust fumes started rising up through the holes rusting in her floor. I think EJ sold her back to the llama-shearer.
As I said, most of the time I didn’t mind the old vehicles, but that one day I did. So I was angry and I went for a long walk. I might have still been a bit angry the next day so I took another long walk. After that, I started enjoying pushing myself to take longer and longer walks each day: 2 miles, 3 miles, 4 miles. EJ thought it would be fun to see how far I could walk by the end of summer so he suggested that rather than walk a ways and then turn back, I just keep walking and walking and when I got tired, he said he’d come pick me up. We had two dogs at the time: old Jake and young Danny Boy. EJ said that if one dog got tired, he’d come get him and bring me the other dog. I love walking with dogs, and walking with a dog is safer than walking without one. I always carried water for myself and a small container so I could pour water into it for the dog.
So I walked. My goal was to walk to the next town 10 miles away by the end of the summer…and maybe even further.
I always tried to walk further each day, but if I couldn’t walk further then I at least tried not to walk less than I had walked the day before.
I started out each morning with a goal: “Today I am going to walk to this place, this road, this many miles.” Sometimes I wasn’t sure I would make it to my day’s goal, so I would “throw the shoe” and say to myself, “Ok, so I will just walk to that big tree.” When I reached the tree, I’d say, “Now I will just walk to that sign a little further down the road.” Sometimes, if I was especially tired, I’d tell myself, “I will just walk one more step…and one more step…and one more step.” No matter how tired, I could always take just one more step. To paraphrase a famous quote, “A journey of a thousand miles…is made one step at a time.”
Sometimes I’d wake up in the morning and groan, “I just cannot walk miles today.” If I thought that, I would just walk one of the dogs around town. I had learned that if I didn’t believe that I could walk for miles then I really couldn’t make it. Victories are won first in the mind or willpower. This supports what the Bible says about taking captive every thought, and renewing the mind, and thinking about things that are good…because as a man [or woman] thinks, so is he.
My most difficult day of walking was the day I decided to walk to our church, which was 9 miles away. I always checked the weather report before I set off so I could dress appropriately. The weather forecast was for a coolish day so I wore jeans, a t-shirt, and a sweat shirt. I walked for a few miles and then called EJ and traded Jake for Danny and continued on my way. The day heated up so I took off my sweatshirt and tied it around my waist. The day heated up more, and I got hot and overheated which zapped my strength. Finally, I called EJ to tell him that I couldn’t make it and I needed him to pick me up. He said he’d be right there.
Rather than just sit at the side of the road and wait for my support vehicle to pick me up, I kept walking. EJ didn’t arrive and I began to grumble under my breath. “Where are you, EJ? I need to you pick me up. I can’t walk anymore. Why aren’t you here?” I kept walking. Eventually, I got closer to the church and my mutters changed into pleas: “I hope you don’t come yet, EJ. Please, EJ, don’t pick me up yet. I am almost at the church. I will make it. Don’t pick me up.” And finally I made it to the church. I felt so victorious. I had made it! I staggered into the church and drank deep from the fountain, then refilled my water bottle and gave water to Danny.
EJ pulled into the parking lot a couple of minutes later. He told me that he purposely delayed picking me up because he knew that I really wanted to reach my day’s goal, and he knew I could do it, and he wanted me to have victory rather than defeat. This made me think of all the times I have complained to God that He was not helping me and I needed His help NOW–then later I looked back and realized that He actually tremendously enabled me to overcome difficulties and grow stronger by delaying His help.
The difficult walk to the church helped me overcome a psychological barrier. The next day I easily walked to the next town. Then I walked six miles into the country and turned around and walked six miles home. No problem. Danny got too tired and insisted on EJ picking him up, but I walked twelve miles that day. By that time summer was nearing its end and I completed my summer of long walks.

As I walked through the summer, I thought about journeys and adversity and faith. I pondered that there are four types of challenges a person encounters whenever he goes on a journey, and each needs to be faced and overcome:
I don’t think this just describes physical journeys–like walks to the next town. It also describes life and spiritual journeys. There, too, a person often encounters rugged paths, difficult storms, internal battles, and difficult people. And as I learned during my summer of the long walks:
I really love stories about long walks and journeys because they are so filled with metaphors about life and adversity and faith. In the next few posts, I thought I’d share thoughts and observations about my own experiences as well as stories about journeys that have inspired me.
This first story is my own personal experience.
Michigan is a beautiful state filled with many beautiful forests and lakes. Surprisingly, Michigan also has miles of sand dunes–some 400 feet high. In 2011 viewers of the television program Good Morning, America voted the Sleeping Bear Sands Dunes to be the most beautiful place in America.
When I was about 19 years old, my parents, younger sister, and I camped at Silver Lake, which is a campground at the Sleeping Bear Sand Dunes. My sister and I heard that Lake Michigan was only a three-mile hike across the dunes from our campground so we decided to make the trek.
We started out in good spirits. Three miles is not far and we didn’t expect the hike to take long. However, I suspect that “three miles” was “as the crow flies” and did not figure in the huge mountains of sand we had to climb.

We wore sandals, which are not good sand-climbing shoes. For every three steps we climbed, we slid back two. The day was sunny and hot. With much effort we finally made it to the summit of a dune expecting to see Lake Michigan. To our dismay, all we saw was another huge mountain of sand that was taller than the one we had just climbed. “Well,” we encouraged each other, “when we get to the top of the next dune, we will be within sight of Lake Michigan.” So we climbed and slid and sweated up the next dune. No Lake Michigan. Only another dune. My sister wanted to give up and turn back. I convinced her to keep going. We climbed the next dune. More sand. I can’t remember how many dunes we climbed, how many times my sister wanted to turn back, or how many times I convinced her to keep going. I hated giving up. I felt that if we turned back, we’d return to the campground in sweaty defeat, all our efforts wasted. If we kept going, we could jump into cool Lake Michigan in victory.
Finally, my sister firmly declared that she was turning back. An idea suddenly popped into my head. I have no idea where it came from “Give me one of your shoes!” I urged my sister. “Why?” she asked. “Don’t argue, just do it. Give me one of your shoes.” She took off her sandal and handed it to me. I also took off one of my sandals and I threw them up the sand dune out of reach. “Why did you do that?” my sister shouted in disbelief and anger. “Well,” I explained calmly, “We now have a choice. We can either climb up and get our shoes or we can return to the campground without them.”

We scrambled up the sand and retrieved our shoes. “Now let’s throw our shoes again,” I said. My sister understood what I was doing. We kept throwing our shoes up the dune, climbing up to get them, and throwing them again. In no time at all, we had reached Lake Michigan. After the hot journey, it was awesome jumping and splashing into the cool Lake before heading back to the campground.

What I learned that day is that sometimes a long journey over mountains of hot sand can seem too far to reach, but it takes no effort at all to climb a few feet to retrieve a shoe. That applies to life as well. Sometimes situations can be so difficult and dark that it can seem impossible to make it through. However, a person can shorten his focus and make it through one day. Or an hour. Or five minutes. Or even just this one moment. Anyone can make it through this one moment, this one second. Sixty seconds add up to an hour. Twenty-four hours adds up to a day. Seven days add up to a week. Four weeks add up to a month….and soon a person makes it through the suffering into victory on the other side.
Years later, I told EJ about this journey. Whenever we need to reach a distant goal by focusing on a shorter obtainable goal, we encourage each other, “You can make it. Just throw your shoe.”
I have not done very well about writing lately. It seems to me that the more complex the thoughts I have in my head, the less I am able to put them into words.
Over the weekend EJ developed some sort of respiratory infection. He felt so nasty that he stayed home from work on Monday. He is still not up to par but was able to go to work on Tuesday. He generously gave his infection to me and now I am battling it. JJ might be coming down with it too. Yuck.
Last Friday I had my colonoscopy. Bleah. I got through it. One thing that amazed me is that the anesthesist told me that the drug she gave me would put me to sleep in 30 seconds. I had sort of thought that the “drug putting someone out within seconds” was merely a movie exaggeration. Not so. One minute–or, rather, half minute–she put the drug in the IV and the next I was waking up as the wheeled hospital bed was entering the room where EJ waited for me.
Anyway, the doctor said that the colonoscopy revealed three minor problems, but NOT anything serious like cancer. The most serious is that I have a pre-condition that could develop into diverticulitis, which is small pockets in the intestine. Yuck.
I kind of wonder if it’s all due to stress because I have felt heightened stress increasing–especially over the last year–and often I can feel its turmoil in my “gut.” Of course, it was stressful and tiring to help JJ through his battle with cancer. It’s been stressful for EJ at work and JJ is trying to get back into life, and I struggled last Spring and through the summer with a friend’s mistreatment and the loss of her friendship.
As I struggled with the friendship, I thought, “Ok, so sometimes friends grow apart and friendships die, and I need to just get over it and move on.” Good advice, but the problem was that I had known this friend for years, and deeply loved her, and her unkindness triggered emotional wounds that have forced me to re-process emotional abuse which can get messy. It’s the messiness that I was really struggling with. It was very difficult…although at the same time, it has helped me continue my journey toward recovery and healing. Difficult situations don’t always mean “bad.” Many times they lead to growth.
Mental health professions have described a 7 stage process of working through grief after a loss. You can read about the stages in detail at the website, Recovery-From-Grief.com. Briefly, the stages of grief are
I believe that these stages don’t just apply to the death of a loved one. It applies to any loss (job, health, relationship, etc.) as well as to recovery from abuse. Within this framework, an abuse victim’s journey involves denying that she is being abused, to feeling pain and guilt as the abuser demolishes her identity, to trying to please and please the abuser, to learning more about abuse, to making positive changes, and finally acceptance and hope and growth.
As I wrote in previous posts, emotional abusers mess with their victims’ reality which makes victims lose confidence and self-esteem. The result of this is that victims tend to struggle to set boundaries, they accept blame for the abuse, they feel as if their every decision is wrong and they second- and third-guess all their decisions. When victims try to set boundaries, abusers and their supporters accuse them of being unloving, unforgiving, bitter, etc.
Emotional abusers are vampires who steal the life and hope from their victims.
Throughout the years, I have battled through the Recovery stages. Growth is not always in a constantly upward line. There are a lot of ups and downs, twists and turns, two steps forward and one step back. I find that each encounter with an abusive person has been very painful and damaging but also has taught me valuable truths and spurred me on to understanding and growth. I mean, either a person is destroyed by the abuse or she fights to overcome it and grows stronger. It’s one or the other. No matter how difficult it is, I am determined to be a survivor.
Over the last five years, I have felt an increase in fatigue as I fought hard to be free of abuse. I was probably in the Depression, Reflection, and Loneliness stage of Recovery. Then last year was really tough with JJ battling cancer, my loss of my unkind friend, and EJ’s situations at work, which included a close work friend being almost beaten to death by her son, and a guy EJ worked with for ten years killing his wife and then himself. We have felt so very drained.
My painful encounter with my friend last spring made me more determined than ever to overcome the abuse. In recent months, I have been renewing my efforts to understand emotional abuse and how to overcome it. Major steps of recovery involve learning to set healthy boundaries (which may include having No Contact with abusers and their supporters) and then working to overcome the false thoughts and beliefs that abusers bombarded us with and to learn to once again to believe in ourselves and gain confidence. I have been working on all these things. I have been understanding that I don’t have to tolerate abusive behavior or friends, I can make decisions, and I can refuse to listen to the lies abusers filled my thoughts with. While I still get hit with waves of discouragement, I am noticing more strength and stability rising within me.
Over the years, EJ and I have often talked about reaching for a life dream, and sometimes we have researched it, but we have never wholeheartedly pursued it. Part of the reason is that we didn’t know exactly what we wanted, or how to accomplish it, and we didn’t think we could swing the finances. Most of the reason is that we didn’t have confidence or belief in ourselves. We second-guessed ourselves. And third-guessed ourselves. And even fourth-guessed. We could think of many good reasons for pursuing the dream, but we also could think of many reasons why we couldn’t. If we swung the bat and missed, life could become very tricky. We kept thinking, “What if this is a mistake? What if it doesn’t work out? What if we miserably fail? What if….” EJ and I would talk and talk and research and research and get excited and then we’d sink back into “We can’t do this.”
After this last very difficult year, it feels as if we are merely existing. If feels as if energy and purpose and dreams are seeping away. Life has almost become a series of plodding on, trying to find energy to overcome daily tasks as they enter our lives. We are living passively. Sometimes we have said to each other, “We have got to do something fun, something to shake this fatigue from us and energize us.” But we aren’t really sure anymore what FUN is–and paying for regular bills, medical bills, car repairs or a new vehicle means we pinch pennies and we don’t have the funds for FUN. A lot of time even the thought of trying to have FUN seems too tiring. We do find pleasure in small things like birds, and squirrels, and walks, but we need a bigger dream before we wither away.
I’m not exactly sure how it happened. Maybe it’s because I am progressing through the stages of Recovery and gaining strength and so is EJ. In the last week EJ, JJ, and I have begun dreaming our dream again. It’s always been EJ’s dream, but it’s also become mine. If EJ and I fulfill our dream, we can also help JJ reach for his so this is his dream as well.
We want it so much that we can taste it.
We are on the very, very edge of being able to financially afford it. In fact, we could do it. There are a couple major challenges but we can think of more reasons to “go for it” then to not. Maybe this is a stupid idea and we can’t do it….but what if we could? I mean, what if we really could? Oh, my goodness, it would be heaven! However, to reach it we’d have to stop thinking that we can’t do it and start thinking that we can. We’d have to start believing in ourselves and each other. We would have to leave “safety” and take risks–like letting go of a trapeze bar and reaching for the next. If we miss the bar. SPLAT! Well, maybe it wouldn’t be the “SPLAT” that it would have been a few years ago.
I’m not going to tell you yet what this dream is because I’m not yet sure we have the strength to go for it. I fear we will talk about it, research it, make plans, and then step back from action. We are trying to encourage each other, challenge each other, motivate each other to keep moving forward. If we stop moving forward we might sink back into apathy. To accept “a life of quiet desperation” because we are afraid to take a risk seems beyond bearing. I’m afraid if we don’t reach for our dream now, we never will.
I’ll let you know how it progresses.
Yesterday morning we woke up to cold and beautiful scenery. Overnight the temperature had dropped to -16 (F). Apparently we had had fog and the cold temps caused it to freeze. It covered everything in beautiful little white flakes–not quite snow and not quite frost.
Later in the morning, it looked as if it were snowing even though the sky was deep blue and cloudless. It was actually the frozen frost falling from the trees. I, of course, videoed it. The white flakes were beautiful against the blue sky.
Tuesday morning I watched a squirrel try to access one of our bird feeders. Two times I watched him fall off the feeder in a cloud of snow. I decided to video his antics, but by then he had figured out how to reach the seeds. With the cats, Danny, the birds, and the squirrels, life here is never dull.
It’s looking more and more like winter here in Michigan. We now have several inches of snow–maybe five inches where we live. As usual, areas closer to Lake Michigan have more snow because of “lake-effect snow.” Lake effect snow is “snow falling on the lee side of a lake, generated by cold dry air passing over warmer water, especially in the Great Lakes region.” (Oxford Dictionary)

Overnight the fire in our woodstove burns down to embers. When I wake up in the morning, I get the fire going again–unless EJ wakes before I do. Before the wood had a chance to really get burning this morning and make the wood stove too hot, Luke found a “just warm enough” place to sit: on the “chin” of the woodstove. Leave it to a cat to find the most perfect warm place in the house.
Wind and blowing snow made visibility low today and caused two huge accidents. They were terrible. The first involved about 150 vehicles with many injuries and one fatality. A truck carrying at least 40 lbs of fireworks exploded resulting in fireworks going off in all directions. I heard that the news cameraman taking the video left his camera running and leaped into a ditch when the fireworks began going off. Here are a couple videos of this accident. The first one was taken by a witness. It shows vehicles running into each other. The second one is of the fireworks exploding.
The second accident happened a couple hours east of the first accident. More than 40 vehicles were involved in that pile up.
I’m glad that I didn’t have to go anywhere today because it certainly was a good day to stay home and off the roads. Fortunately, EJ doesn’t have to travel far to work. Still, I will be glad when he is home!
After an unseasonable warm November and December, we finally are getting wintry weather. Last weekend we had a little freezing rain. It was just enough to make the roads a bit slick but not enough to cause major problems. Since then we have gotten several inches of snow and the temps have dipped into the single digits–with wind chill temps near -20.
I don’t mind wintry weather. I love the coziness I feel when it’s cold and snowing outside and I’m wrapped in a quilt near the wood stove with cats on my lap and Danny at my feet.
Poor Danny didn’t get his walk today. It was too cold. Brrrr. Usually when EJ leaves for work, Danny gets excited about his walk, but he seemed to know that we would not be going for a walk today.

Last night Timmy was sitting on my lap and he streeeetched out so his paws were on my laptop. He pressed a few keys and suddenly everything on my screen turned sideways. It took me a long time to figure out how to get it back to normal. I tried pushing buttons, restarting my computer, and searching for help. It’s very difficult to operate a computer when everything is sideways, especially since the mouse operated as normal. I mean, to get to the top of the screen (which was now to the left), I had to move my mouse up toward the top of the monitor as normal so to move the mouse to the left I had to move it up. It was sort of like patting your head and rubbing your stomach at the same time.

Anyway, nothing worked. I finally got on EJ’s computer and googled the problem and found the answer. To rotate the screen, a person has to push CTRL + ALT + plus an arrow key in the direction you want the screen to rotate. Since I wanted up to be up, I pushed the up arrow. I am still trying to figure out how Timmy knew exactly which three keys to push in order to mess me up. He’s a clever cat.

Speaking of clever cats, this morning I walked into the bathroom to get something. I didn’t turn on the light. I heard a trickling water sound and looked around for the source, thinking that maybe someone had accidentally left the faucet running. Then I saw that Luke was using the toilet. It’s always amazing to me that he taught himself to use the toilet a year or so ago. But then I realized that the profile wasn’t correct. I turned on the light and saw that it wasn’t Luke using the toilet, it was Little Bear. So now we have TWO cats using our toilet. Luke is an amazing cat because not only did he teach himself to use the toilet, he also taught Little Bear. I didn’t get a picture of Little Bear this morning, but here is a picture of Luke that I took a year or so ago.
I cannot believe that 2014 is coming to an end already. It’s seems like yesterday that we were entering the NEW MILLENNIUM…and now here it is 15 years later. I feel as if I’ve been sucked into a time vortex or something.
I must say that I am not sad to see 2014 go. It was a difficult year filled with difficult experiences–most of all our son’s battle with cancer. However, there were good things in it too, such as friends who were very supportive during this difficult time.
EJ has had almost two weeks off from work during this holiday season. We have relaxed…and got a few things done, and bought a used Nissan Xterra. When one of my friends–who is a fellow Doctor Who fan–saw the picture of our new vehicle, she exclaimed, “It is Tardis blue! Are you going to call it the Tardis?” I thought that was a splendid idea. So thanks to my friend, the Xterra is now officially “The Tardis.” I found a sonic screwdriver flashlight keychain on Amazon and am hoping to get it when I have extra money to keep with the Doctor Who theme. I figure, hey, why not?
We have been especially busy the last couple of days getting the house cleaned, and meals planned, and projects completed because tomorrow JJ’s new girlfriend and her mother are coming to visit for the first time. They live about four hours away in a nearby state. Everyone is somewhat nervous. I have never done this “meeting my son’s girlfriend and her mother” thing before. I’m sure we will all survive….right?
I have spent several days writing about emotional abuse. I wrote first about emotional abuse and then a brief-ish summary of my story. It was kind of difficult to write, but I felt that it needed to be done for some reason. Maybe because it is another step in my recovery and maybe because it might help others. I know that I have been helped by the stories of others, and by their support. The post is in the About Me tab at the top of the page, but you can also click here: TJ’s Story.