It's Your Breath

Everything happens for a reason.
Everything happens for a reason...
Everything happens for a reason?

I started to believe and hold onto this Monday night in the emergency room while waiting for my IV antibiotics to finish. 
Earlier that evening, my dear friend finally talked sense into me and brought me to Abbotsford emergency as I was having severe lower back pain, weakness, and was running a fever. I was scared to admit something might be going on that was more than just food poisoning (I had sushi on Friday that I thought was off so obviously put all my symptoms on that).  Wednesday I was supposed to be flying to Guatemala on a short term missions trip with a group from my university and so I figured I should make sure things were under control before going - not thinking they would tell me not to go...

Note the Guatemalan pants!

My friend asked me what was the worst thing it could be and my mind didn't go to the absolute worsts (like cancer or back to Chronic Fatigue - at least that night).  My mind went to a bad kidney infection in which I would need IV antibiotics for. 
So when that is actually what they did for me, I realized it wasn't good. I probably wouldn't be going to the country that held a special piece of my heart. 
I was sick.
And God was making this happen for a reason? Purposefully stopping me from going to Guatemala?

Why would He make this happen to me?  Force sickness on me, again, when I felt like I was following His will?

And as the days have progressed, with more tests (including a CT to rule out kidney stones), more medications, and more doctors in the ER, I began to realize that this wasn't true. Sure in the long run, reason can and probably will come from this but the truth is, sickness, pain, and death are not of Him.  
So instead I chose (and continue to choose) to hold onto this truth instead:

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose (Romans 8:28)

I can believe that good will come of out this.  I can trust He is working in and through this - not that He caused this per say but is using this for good.  And not my own good necessarily but His good, the greater good, and my spiritual good. 
And to be honest, I already have learned from this.  That I was falling back to my own ways.  Saying yes to too much.  Feeling like the more I did, the better.  If I was gasping for air, all the better. Because that meant I was doing a lot for Him right?  Reaching beyond myself and to others...

But now that I am forced to stop and truly breathe... Inhale Him and His goodness and peace and exhale Grace... I recognize that in the gasping, I was breathing on my own.  Not relying on His breath. His air to fill my lungs. 

So now, in the forced rest, I am trying to let go and just rest in Him.  Let go of people-pleasing and instead focus on just pleasing Him.  Letting go and letting God. 
Letting Him do a work greater than I could ever imagine. 

Thankfully I am now off the IV and can be taking oral antibiotics and strong pain medication at home, as they were able to rule out kidney stones, or worse.  So I'm praying that in this time He would transform my mind and heal my body. 
That it would be His breath in my lungs, now and forever. 

Dive back In

Sea world came to my house today.
Well sort of.

A seal decided it would be a good idea to climb up the stairs of our beach house.  And not just one set but two! He decided not to go onto the top deck but instead rest two steps from the top.  Rest from his long journey and like any other Californian, sun bathe.
He would stretch every so often and look around.  Look around at life from his new found perspective.
From way up there he could see other life that swims around him like never before. He could watch the dolphins frolicking in the waves.  He could see birds flying high.  People down on the beach were no longer predators but rather another thing moving along the shore.  
I watched him for a long time this morning through the window.  He looked back at me.  I guess I seemed like the one who was in an exhibit,  held behind glass.   He was life beyond my window.  I was life inside. 

After a while, my mom and I began to wonder if he would be able to get down.  We thought of calling the Ocean Wildlife Rescue people but decided to see what he would do first. My mom went on the deck upstairs and began to talk to him.  He then proceeded to slide down the stairs a bit to get a safe distance away.  And then called it nap time after he realized we wouldn't hurt him. 
He eventually moved a bit further down the stairs, finally past the first deck.  Yet he continued to rest and look out onto the ocean.

I began thinking about what it must have been like for him.  Out of his ordinary life, into one that didn't require much of him,  allowing him just to nap and bask in the sun.  He ventured from his known into the unknown in quite an act of bravery.  To heights no other seal he knows has probably climbed. And although he liked it, it wasn't where he belonged.  
It took the voice of a mom to coax him further down the stairs.  To convince him just enough to move. 
Isn't that true in our lives though?  That sometimes we need something, something that may even scare us a little, to coax us back?  Coax us back to the place we were made to go.  The place we were made for. 

Sure that place we were made to be may scare us too.  But sometimes we need that kind of coaxing, the encouragement to move to where we can thrive. 
Because he wouldn't thrive if he stayed here all the time. He would get weaker, lose sight of what he was meant to do.  He would have a nice view but not be able to do anything. 

And you know, to be perfectly honest, I feel a bit like him.  Removed from where I seemed to thrive and have purpose.  Stuck in my retreat from the world, with a nice view but kind of stuck.  
I am scared too.  Scared to go back to school, back to things I used to do.  Back to places where people know me for what I did and not who I am, for I can no longer do those things - at least not at the moment. 
I am also scared of crashing and spiralling further into the unknown debilitations from CFS.  I do not want to over do things and get worse, so I don't do them.  I stay where I am comfortable. I do the routine that I know I can do. 
It takes that same voice of encouragement that moved the seal, to make me move, to challenge me to try things, to convince me to come down to California.  And I am so glad I am here.  Somewhere different where my routine does have to change because I am not at home. 
It took the nudgings of the Spirit and strength from Christ to share my story.  To deal with the chapter I am in now and not further deny it.  To write this blog.  To do something where I once again have a purpose and can thrive - however different it is. And I was scared.  I knew I wanted to share my story but I was scared at how people would respond, wondered if anyone would care, would want to hear my story, would keep coming back. 
But I am blown away by the encouragement and blessings writing has brought me.  I am astounded by all who care. By all who want to somehow be apart of my story where I slowly try to get back into the ocean of life doing what I was made to do. 

And I am ever so blessed that you are a part of my story. Thank you for coming back.  Thank you for being the encouraging voice that pushes me a little.  That prays me back to the place where I dream to be.  Where God has bigger plans for me.  And thank you for being patient with me as I stop and just rest.  Just rest and wait. 
Wait and expectantly hope for the time when I can dive back in.