October 2011, hmm, there was a point in my life, not too long ago, where I didn't think I'd be here for this date. The 3rd year anniversary of being diagnosed with Pulmonary Arterial Hypertension. Wow, so much has happened. I feel like a new woman!
Remember I cried about being scared that I might not get to see L
wearing a little back pack and heading out for school?
Here she is with her little back pack. First day of Pre School...
Remember when I cried out to God begging Him to let me see my son go to Kindergarten?
This one really makes me laugh because Lord knows I NEVER saw myself doing this...
Here is a picture of him while we home school...
Welcome to Kindergarten J!!!
...Remember that pity party I threw because I thought I wouldn't get to see L wearing a Ballerina Tutu for Dance Class?
Here she is in this year's first Dance Recital...
I cried the whole five minutes that her little dance routine lasted!
Last year, I avoided Beach outings. Even though it's a favorite on my summer-to-do-list. Especially with the kids. It was just too hard for me to carry everything over the sand. Not to mention to keep my two little ones by my side. I ran out of breath so quick, I just couldn't do it.
Here's a picture of one of our many beach outings...
Then the Lord told me...
"But if you remain in Me and My Words remain in you, you may ask for anything you want, and it will be granted!" ~John 15:7This year I went in for another dreaded Cardiac Catheterization. I was not looking forward to it but it had to be done. I have also been referred to a Pulmonary Specialist in Hollywood because my doctor wants feedback on my progress. Huh? I think that I'm doing so well, he doesn't know what to think. Haha! So I literally have a 'team' of doctors I see on a regular basis, not because I'm so sick I need more expertise, but because I'm so well that they need to understand.
The catheterization went as smooth as a baby's bottom...
I was so nervous, knowing what to expect, that previous 'heart-attack-on-the-O.R.-table-feeling' was NOT fun.
As I walked into the Cardiology Department to check in, my heart began to sink into my stomach. I let the lady know I was checking in for a Cath. Ugh! I felt so small, all over again. The thirty-three years of life I've had felt like it had only been ten, the belittlement of having to offer up my life with palms up to some strange surgeons and nurses seemed childlike. "I'm an adult", I thought. "I have a life. Friends, work, family, kids for goodness sakes! I don't want to wear that demeaning hospital gown!"
The nerves had set in. I hardly even listened to her response while checking in. "I'm going to be butt-naked in the O.R." was my thought. Forgotten were the mass of people that I knew were praying for me, fervently praying for peace. Peace? This is NOT peaceful, at all. Nothing about preparing to be naked in an Operating Room, poked into with a scalpel, groin area prepped, hospital gown, IV's, bedpans?, was peaceful. But here I was, all one-hundred and twenty-something pounds of me (you need not know the specifics here), to give up the only thing I actually have control over to these... people. Really, Lord? Humiliating.
A nurse steps into my tunnel vision view and she is smaller than small, Asian, pretty gal but my quick judgmental mind began its frugal task of over-analyzing her. On my minds' richter scale my nerves have sky-rocketed and physically landed in the pit of my innards. Please don't take my blood pressure right now because you will probably fall flat on your back once you see the numbers.
"Hello, Miss B.", perky little smile she has. "Lets get your weight. Stand here on the scale." Yes, I know this robotic routine, I have it down. "My name is Shalom, How are you today?"
Wait, wha? Shalom? I do a double take on her badge. 'S H A L O M' it reads. Peace in Hebrew. Right then, I feel the warm embrace of the familiar One. The One that has never left me. The One that was there during my desperate cries, during all my pity parties, while I 'took in' special moments of thanksgiving that most people might not even recognize in their lives. Peace felt like a flood of refreshing water engulfing me from head to toe. Peace came and suddenly those pesky nerves were miles away from me. I felt like I was physically glowing, radiating this awesome, majestic word called peace. My smile returned to me. That smile that has for years been my own. The one that makes people feel comforted and understood. I was smiling back at my Father because, this body? This body that I have control over? The one thing that I refuse to lose control over? It's not mine. It's His. Every ounce of it, yes, even these darned lungs that are giving me such trouble. They are His. He put them there, like this, made them just for me. Because He knew, before I even existed what He would accomplish through them. He was letting me feel peace and sent me this simple giddy nurse to tell me that. How sweet He is.
From then on, everything was peaceful. Two weeks later, I met with my pulmonary specialist and even his response was peaceful. "It is amazing to see how well you're doing. This is not my personal medication of choice. Most people that are on this medication are really sick. You, on the other hand, are doing great. Your heart output is great! The numbers are good and I don't see a need to add any other medications to your therapy. It's interesting to see how much you're doing in your daily life with work, household, kids, home schooling, and still you're feeling so well."
But I
know,
I'm not
interested.
I'm in
awe.
In awe of all the things He has accomplished with this little ole me
person. I really am favored by the One true God. He really is as close as I think. So close that His embrace is constantly felt. I am not alone. I pray that you too, will feel His embrace. I pray that you will give up your body, your children, your career, your friends, your life and let Him be in control. There is no greater fear,
I know, than to let it all
go, with palms up, to
surrender. But I also know that there is no greater feeling of love, than to feel the peace of His majestic embrace.
Shalom!
Life As Lizzy.