Struggles

I'm up past my bedtime, as always, with a lot on my mind.  Lately I have been struggling with my illness, which is nothing new, but it's been more difficult on me for some reason.  Probably because I'm getting a little worse.  My latest symptom is severe pain everywhere as well as skin sensitivity everywhere.  My toes hurt, my scalp hurts, I think that even my pinky hurts,  a rather accurate exaggeration.  It's discouraging, but I don't think that is the main reason that I'm struggling. 

I'm angry and that's why I'm struggling.  I'm not mad at God, never.  He's my Deliverer in all this.  No that's not why I'm angry....I think I'm angry at myself.  So angry in fact that it makes my blood boil and I wanna scream just like a heated kettle on a stove.  I feel like all I do is cry and complain.  I feel that my illness is not that severe, that I'm just being dramatic.  There are people my age with cancer and debilitating diseases, and here I am, crying about feeling bad.  Granted, it's a miserable feeling, but I'm functioning.  I continue to work, go to school, make good grades, do chores, shop, go to the movies.  I mean, why can't I stop crying?!

I'm angry because I feel like I am not strong enough.  I'm not strong enough to smile when I'm sick or put a brave face on for my parents.  I'm ashamed at just how weak I really am.  Sounds like my pride is angry because it has been hurt. I'm the only sick one in my family; my great-grandmother can out work me.  I feel like I stick out like a sore thumb.  I'm angry with myself, with my weakness, my complaints, my tears.  I feel like they are not justified.

I'm trying to remember if I cried this much when I was better.....I don't actually remember what I was like before I was sick.  This whole illness has redefined my entire life.  But I do remember that I was always sensitive, I mean the first time I ever saw Meet the Parents I cried because I felt bad for Ben Stiller's character!  So maybe I'd cry the same amount if I was better, I'm just a sensitive soul. But what about my complaints?  I'd like to think I wasn't much of a complainer, but then again, I really don't remember, and neither does my mom.  I do remember that I was always healthy, never sick, and never nauseated.  Hmm...I wonder what that felt like.  I can't remember.

I guess I don't want to go back in time 3 years and not be sick.  Then I wouldn't know as much as I do now.  But I am worn out, unjustly so I feel.  I guess really and truly I want God to be proud of me.  I want him to be proud of the way I'm handling this illness, that I'm learning all that He teaches me.  But I honestly don't feel that way.  Many times I don't feel Him at all, probably because of my stupid self-reliance rather than my God-reliance.

God, I need Your help so bad.  I feel like a lost fish struggling in the net of discouragement and disappointment.  God, I am so disappointed with myself, with my pessimistic attitude and with my selfish tears.  I know that crying is a way that You allow our emotional wounds to heal.  Help me to recognize those wounds in others though, so that I may shed tears from prayer and compassion for them, rather than focusing all of that energy on me.  I hope you are not too terribly disappointed in me.  I just need to rely on You, which I confess is easier said than done.  Help me to truly understand how to rely on You so that I can really trust Your will and Your ways.  Help me to be strong for my family, and give them more strength than You give me, they deserve it.  Thank You for listening to my rants as well as my prayers.  You are everything I need.  I know that.  Now help me to live that, everyday.  I love You, God.  Thank You for all Your blessings.

A Dedicated Fan

My students are knee-deep in baseball season. Every afternoon they seem to either have a game or practice one, and then the next day they are eager to report back to me how well they played. They always ask me the same question, "Miss Stephanie, can you come to my game?" Of course, they tend to invite me the day of their game and so with that little warning I usually am not prepared to go.

However, Monday afternoon when a group of my little boys begged me to come, saying that the game was on a field just next to the school, and that it started at 6 so I could go straight there from work, I consented. I decided on a whim, despite pressing homework, to attend their game.
And might I say that kindergarten and first-graders are mighty cute swinging their bats, sliding into bases, and trying to catch fly balls. I cheered for my 5 boys that were playing, and after the game I recieved huge hugs and "did you see"s!

There my work was done. I finally attended thier game, and I wouldn't have to worry myself with making another one, or so I thought. The very next day, another boy asked me if I could come to his game that night. Unlike the other kids, he played on a little league team in a neighboring city, which is alomost 30 minutes away. I get tired easily, and I came to work sicker than normal. I knew I wouldn't have the stength. " I just don't know if I can..."

"Please, Miss Stephanie," he asked.  Well that did it. This particular little boy is an energetic first-grader who comes from a broken home. There for a while his dad was unable to even pick him up from Extended Day because of the restraining order against him. He is sweet, but gives the teachers several discipline problems. His language and demeanor is not often like that of a seven year old boy. However, he always adresses me with "yes ma'm," and he cries easily. It seems that sometimes he just is a little lost in the world.

When I saw the look in his face when he asked, I knew that I should go to his game, no matter how bad I felt. For him, I would go. I wanted to let him know that I would be there for him, and that he could count on me. "Okay, I think I can make it. But I'm just gonna let you know that I intend to yell real loud for you, and I might embarrass you in front of all your teammates."

He smiled and said, "Ah! Miss Stephanie!"

Gatlin, who very generously agreed to go with me, and I made to the game right before it started. His grandfather, who usually picks this little boy up, waved at us and let us sit with them. His mom looked at me and said, "The first thing he said when he saw me was that Miss Stephanie was going to try to come to his game. You're all he's been talking about. Let me go tell him you're here." She walked over to the dugout, whispered in his ear, and his face lit up as I saw him scanning the bleachers for me. I smiled and waved, already comforted to know that I had made the right choice in coming.

He played a great game. He hit a homerun, caught several outs, and ran like cheetah around the bases. He's going to grow up to be an amazing ball player. I probably will never know how much it meant to him to have me there. With all the inconsistencies in his life, right now for him I am a constant, someone he can trust to keep their word. I went to the game extremely sick, but as soon as I continued to cheer for him, I felt a divine peace come over me.

My prayer is that I never stop being obedient to the God's plans just because I don't feel well, which is really easy to do. Just because I have an illness doesn't mean that God can't use me, and I hope that I never have that attitude. Thank you, God, for this child. I hope that I will always be there to support him in any way that I can, despite what I am going through. Thank you for using me when it seems that I am unusable and worthless. I hope that I am receptive to whatever else you may ask me to do.

Happy (Belated) Easter!!

Easter is my favorite day. It is the ultimate symbol of hope. I honsetly have a hard time comprehending the magnitude of what Christ did for me, for all of us on the cross. I try my best, but I am just incapable of understanding that kind of selfless love. It's the kind of love I try to grasp so that I can model it in all of my relationships, most of all my relationship with Christ himself. I fall short as always, but because of His death in my place on Calvary, He takes me just as I am. For that I want Him to have all of me, at my best, yet even that isn't good enough.

But that's not why Easter is so important. Christ is alive today and that is why we celebrate; that is why we have hope. If He had not risen, He wouldn't have accomplished anything more than a noble deed. By conquering Death, Hell, and the Grave, He proved His power and love for us. I love Easter for all it represents. Thank you, Jesus for what You did for me.

Easter was a great day emotionally for me. I went to church in a totally cute Easter dress, and came home and spent the day with my immediate family. Even at age 20, I still hunt eggs. (But hey, they have money in them so you would too!) The Easter Bunny (Gatlin) gave me four baby ducks that have also helped me to battle my illness. Easter gave me the much needed hope in my life! I am eternally grateful to Christ for what He has done for me!