Blessings Abound

Have you ever stopped to consider how often the blessings of God grace your life? How everything, even the simplest of things, has been touched by His hand?

Have you stopped to study the intricacy of a single bloom?

Or stood silently in awe as a great egret took flight?

Or marveled at the glow of the approaching sunset? God can even take LA’s pollution and make it beautiful.

These are but a few outward examples of His love for us. For He also gave us friendship and love, laughter and tears, compassion and forgiveness.

The blessings in my own life are too numerous to count. All day long, I praise His Holy Name for giving me glimpses of heaven.

All of this, I witness and find joy in, not in spite of my pain and illness, but because of it. For through my struggles, He has taught me much, and I am ever grateful.

Where can you find blessings today?

Love,

Jenni and Ken

Absenteeism

When life gets rough

And I sit on my duff

I’m tempted to cry

And wail and moan.

I feel so alone

When I ache to the bone.

But nothing

Offers comfort to me.

As I survive

And once again come alive

I know it wasn’t me

Who brought me through.

For The Lord is my shepherd,

And His dove, His holy bird,

Leads me out of my torment

Once again.

Thank You, Lord. I praise Your holy name for bringing me through the past several months, when my health was sliding rapidly downhill. Though I am still not as well as I would like, You give me the hope to believe that I am on the mend and will soon be able to participate in life more often.

Thank you, also, to all my readers who have stood by and waited patiently to hear why I have not been writing. The regimen I was on most recently for my Lyme disease took its toll worse than usual. That, coupled with the extra stress of traveling, was just too much for my body to handle. My pain and fatigue were unrelenting, and I could not do much more than survive. I depended wholly on The Lord, Ken, and Tinker Belle to get me through.

I do not regret making this journey, not in the least. Though we are in a rather barren area, with brown being the predominant color, I absolutely love it. The lack of rain and subsequent humidity has been a Godsend for my arthritis (bone pain is a whole other matter), and even though it is nearing the end of October, we are still enjoying temperatures in the 80’s.

Besides, I’m near my daughter, and our relationship is flourishing as I get to know her as an adult, rather than as a child. We are blessed to have this opportunity.

I cannot make any promises as to how frequently I will be writing in the future, but I hope it will be more often. Please forgive my absenteeism and know it was for a health reason.

Love,

Jenni and Ken

Please Forgive

I’ve had a bit of a health set back. Not too big, but enough of one. It is taking me longer to recover from my normal rounds of treatment. Four or five days has stretched to six or seven days at a time when I am incapable of doing much at all. This past week I spent four days in bed because of my pain, and then I forced myself to be a little active and ended up back in bed again.

Having a chronic illness, complete with pain 24/7, is a full-time job. After I complete the must-do chores, such as tending to the bills and reordering our prescriptions, I plumb run out of steam.

So, please forgive the lapses in my writing. If my better days outnumbered the bad ones, I would be writing more often. You are all so wonderful for hanging in there with me. Thank you.

Love,

Jenni and Ken

Techno-Savvy? Not Me

I thought it might be useful to others who may be on a similar journey (or are contemplating such) to go over some of the things we have found most helpful.

First, when it comes to blogging, I cheat. Gasp! Yes, it is true. I use a Windows program called Windows Live Writer. It allows me to write, edit, and publish a bunch of blog articles all at once, and then they get neatly doled out per my scheduling. So, it may look like I am writing daily or almost daily (I know, ha ha, right), but I can get three or four posts done in one afternoon, and then spend the next three or four days thinking about what to write about next. So, it really isn’t cheating. It is time management.

One major problem we had to overcome was the availability of reliable internet. At first, I tried to just use what was provided by the resorts, but the deeper into California we got, the more expensive it became to “rent” the internet, even for one afternoon. Besides, then we ran into another problem due to the nature of public internet sources. One resort had their router set so that no downloading could be done. I can understand this. They don’t want people tying up the limited internet for everyone by watching You Tube videos or Netflix all day long. But they also stopped me from uploading to the blog server.

So we gulped hard and called AT&T to turn my i-phone into a hotspot. So far, so good on that front.

A guy at Canyon Creek tried to sell us a cell booster of some sort (it is what he does for a living). He proved it worked for his Verizon phone, but he could not guarantee results with AT&T. We did not succumb, but maybe if we found one that did work with our service, then maybe.

For photo editing, I use Photoshop Elements 9. Though some things in life need no help at all in the cuteness department. Photoshop seems to do what I need without too many headaches. Then again, nothing is as user friendly as I used to believe everything was. You know, back when my brain was young and elastic, and not full of disease.

The one thing I have not been able to replace since leaving Portland is the fount of technical knowledge I had at my beck and call—my son.

I miss you, Trevor. Don’t laugh next time I call you because I cannot turn my hotspot on. Unless I am already laughing, of course.

Love and best wishes,

Jenni and Ken

Blessings, Divine

Please forgive the lapses in my postings. Life tends to get out of control when one has a chronic illness. Sometimes I feel like a tumbleweed, tossed around at the mercy of the world’s winds.

Since we arrived at Fisherman’s Retreat in Redlands, I have spent most of my time indoors, recuperating. Sometimes I feel left out, as Ken goes on his daily walks without me. I’m just not up to such long walks right now.

There are blessings even in this, for without me out there taking pictures, Ken has been honing his skills. He has become more intentional in his photography. I’m even considering turning that branch of creativity over to him totally, for a time, anyway. It is much too much, all that I try to accomplish with my creativity. And it is good, very good, to give him this special chore.

So, from here on out, the majority of the photos I will use in my blog will actually be Ken’s contribution. The Lord has blessed me once again, through my husband and all this beauty.

May you be blessed in your comings and goings and doings and being,

Jenni and Ken

High Maintenance Hottie

Have you ever stopped to consider how others might see you? Of course you have because you know as well as I do that we are talking about all those labels we try so hard to get rid of. If we step to the side for just a moment, or we change the wording a bit, we might actually be able to laugh at our labels, instead of cry. It’s the whole, “I’m not fat, I’m fluffy,” attitude.

I had never really thought of myself as high maintenance until recently. I’ve always tried to remain independent, not wanting to put upon others and wear out my welcome, so to speak. But, when one has a chronic illness, sometimes she needs help. So I had to drop the façade of independence, in favor of a more congenial, less stubborn reliance on the help of others.

As a disclaimer, despite our grandson’s proclamation that I am always in a good mood, I most certainly am not. I just work really hard to not let others see me, as I go off the deep end, but my poor, dear, sweet husband gets the brunt of it every time.

I have wicked migraines that come on strong and fast and slur my speech and steal my words. I can be in normal conversation one moment, and then the next, I’m a babbling idiot. These meltdowns also come with an emotional flavor. After one incident, I cried and begged Ken to forgive my two-year-old behavior. He said, “Two? More like eight, because you know better.”

One evening during a whopper of a migraine, I insisted on arguing about my jeans and his shoes. I cannot tell you why we were arguing, essentially about the proverbial apples and oranges. I haven’t a clue because it didn’t make sense even as I tried desperately to argue my ridiculous point that night.

It is during my migraines, when I become belligerent like a child, that I am most high maintenance.

When my pain and fatigue shake me to the core, this is also when I am most high maintenance.

When I whine and cry because I am too tired to think straight and I interpret Ken’s gentle coaxing as aggressive pushing, this again is when I am most high maintenance.

He is such a gentle, giving soul, and yet he quickly gives me the evil eye if I am overstepping. It is then that I pray, very loudly, “Lord, please help me to be patient. I know I can be pushy. Please teach me to be satisfied with what I have, Lord. Please let Ken know how much I appreciate him getting me a third glass of water. Lord, I know I am so needy, please forgive me. And thank you for putting Ken in my life. Amen.”

Then he softens, knowing that if I didn’t really need help, I would not ask. Besides, he has opportunities for revenge (oh, you sadistic puppy, you), and he pokes fun at my faux pas (all in good fun, nothing sadistic here). He gets to take a cold, wet washcloth to my fiery body, to extinguish my hot flashes. After all, I do seem to be of that certain age, when women can be overheard saying, “I’m still hot. But now it comes in flashes.”

Moral of today’s story: Laughing at ourselves can be good medicine.

Peace,

Jenni

The Long Haul South

Ken and I weighed our options. We tossed around many different scenarios, on what we should do and where we should go next. We thought about staying in Chowchilla, but then opted against it because, frankly, there’s not enough of interest in that area to keep Ken out of trouble. He would have gotten restless, waiting for me to get through my next round of artemisinin, which I take three days out of every fourteen, to combat the babesia infection (a Lyme co-infection).

Now, artemisinin is not for the faint of heart. It is brutal, and it takes the rest of the two weeks to build myself back up to withstand the next round. Being caught in what has become a vicious cycle, it came down to either waiting it out a week on the valley floor, where it was forecast to be really, really hot (and boring), or spend two nights on the road, holding off on the artemisinin for those two days, so that we could then settle in down south, where we really wanted to be.

So, the first night we spent at Buttonwillow rest stop, which is still in the valley, and it was a miserably hot night with little sleep for either of us.

Speaking of Buttonwillow rest stop: The farther south we traveled along I-5, the more we saw signs about the government causing a draught and subsequent dustbowl because of the enforced water shortage. Plus, there’s signs at each rest stop about conserving water. Well, at Buttonwillow, they have not gotten the message. The sprinklers ran and ran and ran, and at least one sprinkler head was broken and poured water full force. The grass was positively soggy and the dog area was a muddy mess.

All this at a public/government run rest stop, during mandated water conservation? All this, while not ten miles away, crops are drying up and blowing away?

Somebody doesn’t have their priorities straight.

Then again, I question my own priorities, when I push myself on long hauls like this. Each move and all the driving take a lot out of me. But I wanted to be near my daughter, whom I have not seen since she came home for my dad’s funeral.

It took every ounce of strength and prayer I could muster to get us here in one piece. You know that song, Jesus Take the Wheel? Well, He was definitely the One driving yesterday.

If only I could have tapped into one of those wind turbines that seem to have sprouted up on every little hill in the Mojave Desert . . .

We spent the second night in Victorville. Being in the desert, the day may have been hot, but the night was gloriously cool and breezy.

After exploring Victorville and Hesperia a bit, we finished our long haul, arriving at Fisherman’s Retreat in Redlands, in time for lunch, then a nice shower and a dip in the pool before falling, exhausted, into bed before eight.

I slept like a rock. Twelve glorious hours. Can you believe it? Sleep priority has been met.

Love,

Jenni

You’ve Got Some Nerve

Hey you all!

I know you probably thought I was on the verge of falling off the edge of the earth again because it has been a few days after a nice run, but trust me, I’m still here, and I still ache to share all our good adventures (and even some mishaps) with you all; however, I have had one heck of a time with pain this past week. Last night I could seriously have drawn the paths my nerves follow down my arms and legs because the nerve pain was fiery and coursing through most of my body like lightning dancing across a minefield. If I could remember my A&P from college well enough, I could even have named most of the nerves.

And if that wasn’t bad enough, just when I thought I had gotten rid of last week’s migraine, I was hit by this week’s awesome, more spectacular version. Migraine 4.0, which included the new meltdown programming, so that within minutes, I could become petty, childish, and argumentative without warning.

But enough of that. Through it all, God continues to hold my hand as he blesses us again and yet again, share with me through others His grace and wisdom, and comfort me in my darkest, most anxiety riddled moments, as my fear that my pain will never end tries to rob me of my hope. He is one awesome God.

Our grandson asked me the other day how it is that I am always (his word) in a good mood. He knows of my pain. He does his best to comfort this elder of his in his sometimes awkward teenage ways. He repeatedly tells me I am too young to be his grandmother and he sometimes prefers to call me Jen. I know in his heart he knows I am his grandmother even if not by blood, and I know the depth of his love because I have been there since he was born. So it does not bother me if he calls me Jen in public and Grammy Jen in our private moments. These are the moments that bring me joy. This joy I carry always, a gift from God, and it allows me to choose to be in a good mood. I choose my attitude every morning like I choose a matching pair of socks. I could be bitter and angry about my chronic pain, my constant exhaustion, my past hurts, but I choose to follow my joy and I choose to share it through having a good mood. I choose not to take anyone else down just because I am full of pain and misery. It is all about choice. And I choose a good mood especially so that I do not hurt the ones I love.

May God bless you in your afflictions, as He has for me, a lowly sinner.

Love,

Jenni

 

The sculptures, by the way, we found in Winters, California. As you can see, they are for sale. Quite spectacular in person, and life size. Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoy what I have to offer.

Home Sweet Home

The past month has seemed like a blur, we’ve been so busy. When we arrive at a destination, I have all these great notions to get all this writing done, plus tons of other things. But all my body wants to do is sleep, in an attempt to recuperate from traveling.

Different elevations and different weather patterns have also worked their unrelenting “magic” on my oversensitive joints and bones, my oversensitive body. After spending the last week at 6,000 feet, I now know that that is not the elevation for me. There’s not enough oxygen up here in the crisp mountain air.

One good thing this past week has been that the humidity has been very low. There is so little moisture in the air, but then that has led to daily nose bleeds and contending with dust, dust, and more dust.

This is our last evening at Snowflower Lake Thousand Trails Park. We had a nice dinner of steak and sautéed vegetables. The coach is in relatively decent shape, almost ready to roll in the morning. So I actually have an hour to spend on my writing.

Even though we are not organized, yet, and my body complains so, I still love our home on wheels and the life we have chosen.

Love and blessings,

Jenni

Heavenly Joy

There are times in our lives when nothing seems to go right. There are also times when it seems nothing can go wrong. We have all had both kinds of days. When we are in the former, our psyche, our very soul, seems to get beaten down by all the pressures, stresses, and negatives of life.

Then there are those days when all goes joyously far beyond our wildest  dreams and expectations. These are the days we all crave. We get a sort of high. Our smiles become contagious, and we cannot help but be good to one another, just for the shear pleasure of seeing another person smile.

I crave these days just as much as the next person, but with my illness, I oftentimes must work the process in reverse. My days don’t often go beyond my wildest dreams (though sometimes they do), yet I can still feel that rush, that soul healing joy I desperately crave, by first giving and smiling and loving on others.

This is one of the secrets to my joy. Listen closely, now. It lightens the burden on my soul when I give freely of my worldly, oftentimes cherished, belongings.

Have I lost you? Let me elaborate. My physical being is a mess. I have Lyme disease, fibromyalgia, chronic fatigue, adrenal fatigue, arthritis, migraines, blah, blah, blah. The list goes on and on, unfortunately. Needless to say, I am in constant pain, and this state of constant pain puts a damper on my naturally good mood.

But the Lord is good. He has shown me how to find bits of joy amongst my pain, interspersed with my tears.

Best of all, He has shown me how to get a booster shot when I need it, to energize and heal my soul. It is as simple as giving. Donating. Even tithing (and now I hear a bunch of non-church-goers going, “ugh”). It does my soul good, knowing that something I am able to give can do so much good in someone else’s life.

Ken took a load of building supplies to the Habitat Restore Store this morning.

My heart swelled, and so did his.

Ken took an equally large load to the Salvation Army thrift store.

His smile threatened to push his ears clean off his face, as his mood soared. And mine did, too.

Even with two truckloads gone, we still had a lot to make decisions on. Then I remembered freecycle. It is a yahoo group here in the Portland area. I imagine there might be more chapters around the country. It is worth checking out. We gave away some large ticket items that we simply could not sell. Ken said he would haul them to the appropriate places for donation, but I was feeling so good, soul-wise, at this point that I suggested we list them on freecycle. Within an hour, the first large item was gone, the second is pending pickup tomorrow, and the third, well I’m waiting to hear back as to when she wants to pick it up.

My joy is overwhelming today, even though my body is riddled with pain and my stress level is through the roof.

My stress is so high because we have only a few days left here in Portland before we hit the road, and we have a ton of work to do still. Having access to this “heavenly joy” will allow me to keep on, minute by minute, keeping faith that God will get us over this hurdle. It will allow me to do what little I can to help, with a smile on my face, instead of tears and heartache for all that I cannot physically do.

I wish you this level of joy. I pray that you have instances in your life where the “pay it forward” system of living and giving will touch your heart and your soul with an over abundance of joy and gratitude.

I had a season of being on the receiving end more often than not over the past year or two, and the receiving also blossomed into wondrous joy, as I realized that others did care and did want to help this tired old soul. They lifted me up with a box of apples, boxes of pears, green beans, a car for our use for three months without charge, a hug and friendship when I needed it most, a bouquet of flowers from a neighbor for “no reason,” many homemade meals delivered hot and ready to eat, and so many other large and small blessings.

I am grateful for all the blessings we have received. And I am grateful for every one of you.

Jenni

PRIORITIZE

If you only had twenty eight days until "hit-the-road" day, and you knew that at least half those days would be stolen by pain, how would you prioritize your time?

I have a house to go through, making decisions on what to keep, take, store, sell, or donate. Ah, but the good thing is, if we leave stuff behind, the boys (son Trevor and his best bud William) will say, “Score!” They will be taking over the lease on the duplex.

I have friends to say goodbye to, at least for a year, though we will still have email (though sporadic at times) and the good ole tellie.

I have financial and medical/medication issues to magically make "transportable."

I have a neighbor who wants me to finish up our cooking lessons before I jet out of here. She still needs my secrets on lemon meringue pie, yeast dough, and pad Thai.

I have two boys I worry about. I pray we have raised them well enough, Ken and I with Trevor, and William’s parents, that is. I know they are both 21 and I had a kid on the hip by that age, but they are boys and I worry. I pray I’ve imparted enough of my hard knocks wisdom (ha ha) to them to keep them out of trouble, to keep them in their jobs and in this duplex. They do listen. I will give them that. I will miss them dearly when we go. I cannot seem to convince them to move south with us. But I think mama is having trouble cutting the apron strings.

I have my doctor, finally, wanting to send me to a pain specialist, finally. Did I say finally? Only in order to see a pain specialist, I have to be physically available in one area for months, until we find resolve. Finally, he makes this decision, but I only have 28 days left in Portland, and we won’t make it to New Mexico until October.

Winter was not kind to me. Winters never are. I joked often that the week wasn’t complete until I had fallen. Then it was fallen twice in a week. Then it was daily falls. It isn’t funny any longer. I now walk fulltime with a cane.

I’ve added another diagnosis to my list, and we are contemplating yet another, if we can figure it out. Yipee. But if we do figure it out, maybe we could finally get a handle on why my pain has gotten so out of control this past year. It has been far worse than in a long time.

My father passed away on the first of Spring. With the passing of my father, it has been like a major chapter in my life closing. Emotionally painful, yes, and yet there is a release. Maybe this is why God kept us here in Portland for so very long. That and all the surgeries my guys went through. Ken three and Trevor two in the span of two years. It has been a very tough three years we’ve spent in a duplex only slated for one year.

When God closes a door, He opens a window. For a breath of fresh air? A change of scenery? Or to at least have an opportunity to empty the chamber pot. Excuse the humor being a bit crass. It has been a very tough few years, frankly. And a very tough day, to boot.

We will be leaving Portland, Oregon, on June 30, 2013, whether we are ready or not.

Ken has been feverishly remodeling the Raven to accommodate my needs and so that we have the most economical use of space possible. After travelling some over the past few summers, we really found out what would work best for us.

I am sorry I have not been around lately. As I mentioned, winter was very hard on me. The pain and the migraines were too much. I’m trying to find the quality in a life so full of pain, but it is difficult. Life goes on, even with the pain, and so we must get on the road. We must get on the road, especially if we plan on wintering down south this year.

It may be a month before I write again, but I will be back. Thank you for hanging in there. Thank you for all your prayers. I know there must be many souls out there praying for me, because I experience God’s miracles every day. Even in this life so full of pain. I am so grateful for all of you.

Our first destination is actually only about 50 miles away from home, but what a sendoff—spending the Fourth of July at the rodeo in St. Paul! Next will be Neskowin, to say goodbye to some friends. And then we travel in a generally southerly direction until we reach Mexico (at which time we will bounce off the border and stay put in New Mexico or Arizona for the winter).

The St. Paul Rodeo in St. Paul, Oregon, July 2-6, 2013.

See you then!

PAIN

A typical day for me, these wintry days, requires a great amount of courage and strength of spirit. Even when my corporal strength lags far behind my desires, it takes everything I have within me just to face another day filled with pain.

Even though I have worked through most of my troubles from the past, and the accompanying depression is all but gone, I still have the desire to put myself out of my misery. My pain is so great a burden. Misery is the key. Suffering for no reason. I have always considered myself able to handle monumental amounts of pain. I have worked long hours on feet that screamed with every step. I have forced my hands to work through unspeakable torture. But today, as I write this, I have to admit the pain has become too great. I am no longer stoic enough.

Many days I am in so much pain, tears threaten. Any little stressor can set me off, and it is not that the stressor or the person or the “offense” is really great enough on its own to warrant tears. They just overflow. They are pain.

Pain.

I am not enough to handle this pain alone. In times of despair, I want to cut away at my own body to remove the worst of the pain. But then I would have no arms, no legs, no nothing.

On a typical day, I do not leave the house. It is too much for me to muster. When I have an appointment, it takes extra preparation and extra rest the day before. That is, if my pain is allowing me to sleep. It takes great effort to put my pain aside and get out the door. It takes coaxing from my dear husband.

I try my best to accomplish at least a little something every day. This is important to me. I have this drive within that is greater than my pain.

Winters are terrible. Each one I spend here in Portland is worse than the one before. I need to get out of here. Please, God.

But I Digress

There have been two times in my life that a form of entertainment had moved me to yearn for it not to end.

One of Ken’s favorite movies is Fiddler On The Roof. Early in our marriage, he suggested we watch it. I was resistant at first. It is such a long movie. And it is a musical. I just wasn’t in the mood for all that singing.

But Ken persisted and finally won.

Once the movie began, I became glued to the screen.

And when it ended, I cried. “That can’t be all there is.”

The second time this phenomenon happened, I was the one who had to be persistent. I had long dreamed of seeing The Nutcracker Ballet live.

Ken was less than enthusiastic, but for me, he caved, and in December 2007, the 21st to be exact, we saw The Nutcracker Ballet from the best seats. We were in the second row, directly behind the orchestra box. We could see clearly that the conductor was balding, but I digress.

We could also see every muscle ripple as true artists floated across the stage.

Then it ended. I was perched on the edge of my seat, clinging to the backrest of the one in front of me. Tears streamed from my eyes. It could not be over. They surely had to come back and do an encore number.

Alas, it was over. I dried my tears and walked away.

And here we have an excellent example of why I have not been writing lately. I am clueless as to where I was headed. Yes, things end, but what specifically now?

I’ve had a bit of a relapse because of all the stress in my life. My pain is greater. My dyslexia worse. And my memory is once again Swiss cheese. I can remember things past as clear as day, as above, but I cannot remember spit about what Ken asked me two minutes ago. I have the feeling it was important, too.

Some time has passed, and I still cannot remember where this post was originally headed. If I ever do remember, I’ll get back to you.

When It Rains

It pours.

Sometimes life can become a bit overwhelming. Stressors can pile up without older ones being cleared away first. When these stressors build up in a chronically ill person, or even a well person for that matter, the immune system becomes compromised. In my case, having chronic Lyme, all my stressors have caused a bit of a relapse, with more migraines and pain, plus more fatigue.

My main goal this month is to reduce my stress level; however, December has never been what one might call an optimum month for my mental health status. Long story short, I do not like this Season of Joy, as it has been called.

My best friend reminded me last night that all these things I am stressing and worrying about, I can do nothing about them.  I am still taking on everyone else’s problems despite my efforts not to do just that. Besides, those I might be able to change, the desired result is a long way off. In short, stop worrying. Let go.

If I would actually like to have a Season of Joy this year and have less stress weighing on me, then I need to seek that which I desire.

Add more joy. Daily.

And take each problem as it comes, examine it as to whether it is worth my time and energy, seek solutions if within my power, then let it go.

I can look at the entire storm raging around me, angry winds stripping the trees and rain pouring down.

Or I can look at a single droplet of rain, a single moment in time.

I can choose how I see things.

I can choose whether I react or respond.

This last raindrop picture is untouched except for cropping. I like to think it is God sending me a smiley face.

Have a joyous day. And thank you to all who have been praying for us.