my pink toes

wonder woman Alas, I am so very
very far from her greatness.
I do have cool Grandma
undies like she does, though!

I gave up “my” time on Friday to make a birthday cake for my beloved now-7 year old. He requested a Lego cake, and I wanted to oblige. My creation won’t win any awards, but I’m quite proud of it. He was thrilled, even though he doesn’t eat frosting! (I made him some extra cupcakes without frosting).

Saturday and Sunday were full to the brim with celebrations, and unfortunately, with pain. So much pain, that I was unable to read the much-anticipated Harry Potter*. I was able to sleep 5 hours on Sunday afternoon, but I was so too far gone by then to stave off the inevitable raging flare.

I’ve been in so much pain this last week, and it continues today. I had to take 3 Vic0din just to make it through the day yesterday. I’ve had 2 already today, and will need another to make it through the evening of Lego shopping I have promised Henry. My entire body is inflamed, and I have a low-grade fever. Everything hurts. Everything. I’m exhausted and completely on edge emotionally and physically.

The fibromyalgia is becoming a bigger deal in my life. Not just because it seems to be getting worse, although that may be contributing to it. But mostly because I am learning (slowly, badly) to take care of myself. I have lived in denial for a long time, and it has caught up to me. One of the reasons I held so tightly to the denial is fear: primarily fear that people only like me for what I can do – that I have to be SuperLeah for anyone to like me, even a little bit. I have to be a great hostess, help everyone out, befriend everyone, throw great parties, send the most thoughtful thank-you notes, have the most positive attitude, exude confidence, be the most secure in my faith, be the most amazing mother and the most self-less wife, etc. It’s been very hard to let go of this fear and free-fall through unfamiliar air, hoping I’ll land okay – bumped and bruised, but hopefully intact.

It’s been hard. I know I’ve frustrated quite a few people. I frustrate myself. It’s so hard not to try grab back hold of the SuperLeah idea, but my cape is torn beyond recognition and my superpowers are now completely depleted. I have to hold on to what I have and pray that it’s going to be enough. I am very blessed. I have a great church, small group, husband, therapist and some key friends. I also know that I have been putting stress on the husband and key friends’ relationships. I have worried about the fallout. I continue to worry. I’ve had lots of reassurance along with a few emotional blows.

Yesterday I met up with a group of women that I had not seen in a long time. These playgroup moms were very important to me during Henry’s first four years. They also knew me when I was still in denial. One of them, in particular, had every right to be angry with me. We had kept in touch for quite a while, through her back surgery and other issues, but I had not been in contact for almost 10 months, during which her father died and her husband had a heart attack. I had thought about her a lot, but did I call? No. Did I email? Yes, but only once or twice. Did I send a card? Only at Christmas. Was I a lame friend? Absolutely. I begged her forgiveness, and she acknowledged her anger at me. But she also showed me incredible grace. I know I injured her, but I also know she chose to forgive.

I finally got time to write today (after waiting an hour for a blood test) and opened my laptop to a terse email from a different friend about how I have let her down for the last time and she may never talk with me again. I worried that my letting go and surrendering to the freefall would lead to situations like this. I worried that taking care of myself would cost me relationships. I have lost my first friend due to my inadequacies. I’m pretty sure she won’t be the last. It terrifies me, but I fear it’s the truth.

I know I am not doing this well. I am learning, and am learning badly. I try to take care of myself and help other people at the same time, and it rarely works out. I am still learning balance, but sometimes I leave others in the lurch. Some forgive me and show grace, teaching me how to hope and love and do this better. Some do not. I need to learn from both situations.

I am doing this badly, but I don’t know how else to do it.

I have chosen to take care of myself and put my myself and my family first. This is incredibly stressful on many levels. Many people don’t understand. Someone quite close to me thinks that having children is the most selfish thing one can do. In my case, I do struggle with that. I can’t even manage to raise my children without help. What made me think I could do this? I am a huge drain on everyone around me. I worry that I am not enough – that everyone thinks I am not worth the effort and would be better off without me. What could I possibly have to offer?

And my faith is taking a beating. I’m trying to turn to God for refuge in this time of stress, but I’m worrying that He doesn’t think I’m Enough either. What could I possibly have to offer God at this moment? I can’t fathom. I can’t see what I have to offer to anyone.

I’m just plugging along, one foot slowly in front of the other - hoping, dreaming, wishing and praying for the fog to lift, for things to make more sense, for me to feel loved and at peace. I know that eventually, things will work out better. The dust will settle enough for me to get used to my new surroundings. The freefall will end and I’ll be able to discover who I am and what my value is. Faith, hope, and dogged determination is all I have. Looking into my children’s eyes, I know it will be worth it. Eventually.

*And yes, I did finally manage to read the last (sniff) Harry Potter – I finished it last night. I had to re-read huge sections of it as I went along, realizing that the narcotics had blurred important parts – the benefit was that it made it last longer. And I’ll bet I’ll pick up even more upon the inevitable re-readings. Yes, I thought it ended well – and more importantly – correctly. Does reading this make me selfish? Probably. But I’m in too much pain and am too exhausted to process that right now. If only St. Mungo’s could mend me…

Filed Under "Depression, Fibromyalgia, Journey" on July 24, 2007 | Permalink | Comments (6) | TrackBacks (0)

I wrote another essay for my church's eNewsletter. You may recognize some bits and pieces of it from two previous posts. As always, what I ended up writing is not necessarily what I sat down to write. That is the amazing thing about the writing process. I truly feel the Spirit working through me. I am blessed and honored to have a venue in which to share this writing.

Love, Chronic Pain, and Toothpaste

"A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another." (John 3:34-35 NIV)

I have fibromyalgia. This is a fancy-schmancy medical-ese way of saying that on any given day, I hurt all over. Sometimes a lot, sometimes a little, but every day I’m in some sort of pain. It is mainly concentrated around my hips, but spreads throughout my entire body and is frequently accompanied by overwhelming fatigue. One current theory is that although FM is not necessarily caused by a traumatic injury or motor vehicle accident, such events can bring out FM. I was in a serious car accident in 1991. The lap belt saved my life, but did lifelong tissue damage and since then I have been in pain every day.

I am in the midst of deep processing about how much this chronic pain affects my life. For years, I would just push on through and catch up on the weekends by sleeping constantly. I convinced myself I had no life because I was a teacher, and teachers' work never ends (poor me). I told myself I was overwhelmed because starting up a new church was Hard Work, and I had to do so much to make myself feel valuable. I would snap at my husband, screaming under the weight of everything I had to do.

The reality was that I was pushing my body to the limit and beyond each and every day. Instead of feeling these limitations, embracing them, and learning from them, I continued to destroy my body and relationships by living in denial and lashing out at myself and those closest to me. I was screaming under the weight of trying to appear perfect and therefore prove there was nothing wrong with me (or with my faith).
Somehow I bought into the idea that I had to appear to have it all together in order to show (prove?) my faith. I thought the only way I had value to anyone was to be perfect.

But Jesus doesn’t say “You’ll show everyone how great I am by how great and put-together YOU are.” He says, "A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another." (John 3:34-35)

Keith Ferrin sent me a link to a webpage of great quotes from the late Mike Yaconelli. Two of the quotes have particularly resonated with me as I have been wrestling with the realities of my pain issues:

“We're attempting to convince the world how good Jesus is by how great we are. This is precisely how Madison Avenue sells toothpaste, automobiles, and underwear. People don't need any more images of success, wealth, and power; they're surrounded already. What they need are their sins forgiven. What they need is healing. What they need is love.”

“I am beginning to understand that faith is not the way around pain, it is the way through pain. Faith doesn't get rid of the opposition, it invites it over for dinner. Faith doesn't give you the winning point at the last second, it ties the game and sends you into overtime. Faith doesn't give you the solution, it forces you to find it.”

I have spent my life trying to be Superwoman and then Supermom and sometimes SuperChristian. Why? Because I bought into the lie that if I'm a Christian, things should always be going right. I'm not sure where we got that idea. Certainly not from the book of 1st Peter (“Dear friends, do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you.” 1 Peter 4:12)

I think this has also been a big factor in processing my pain issues. If I'm a Christian, I shouldn't be in pain, right? This has been said to me as directly as "Your pain is a result of some unrepented sin in your life" and as subtly as "If you had faith, you would be healed” (implying that “healing prayer” hadn’t worked because of some deficiency in me.) These statements roll around in my head, wearing their familiar grooves along my long-traveled pathways of thought.

I believe God can do miracles - I believe he can heal.
He has not healed my physical body.
How can both statements be true? I don't know - I may spend a lifetime "finding the solution" to this dilemma. Jesus has healed and changed many painful things in my life. I have seen and felt Him at work in me, softening my rough edges, gently showing me things I need to change, and redeeming my heart - making me believe - slowly, slowly - that He loves me so fully. The more I feel the love, the more entranced I am by Him. I have come to believe that I may actually be lovable after all. Perhaps I could never come to know this if I were able to be "Superwoman" and sell Jesus like he were toothpaste. Only by being broken could I know how powerful the Healer is.

Life is a struggle. My life may be messier than most, but honestly, I doubt it. We each have our own basket of expectations, disappointments, struggles, and challenges. I have pain, frustrations, difficult babies, and financial realities. Following Jesus doesn't make all these things go away. Instead, I am learning how to forge forward, slogging through the muck of my life, holding firmly to Grace. This is Real. This is where I meet Jesus and where I find love and purpose and hope in the journey.

They will know we are Christians by our Love, not our so-called Got-It-Together-ness. The world sees through our façade. People want to see God’s love. That’s what each one of us needs most of all.

Filed Under "Essays, Faith, Journey" on July 03, 2007 | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

More inspiration from Mike Yaconelli:

I am beginning to understand that faith is not the way around pain, it is the way through pain. Faith doesn't get rid of the opposition, it invites it over for dinner. Faith doesn't give you the winning point at the last second, it ties the game and sends you into overtime. Faith doesn't give you the solution, it forces you to find it.
- Mike Yaconelli

We're attempting to convince the world how good Jesus is by how great we are. This is precisely how Madison Avenue sells toothpaste, automobiles, and underwear. People don't need any more images of success, wealth, and power; they're surrounded already. What they need are their sins forgiven. What they need is healing. What they need is love. - Mike Yaconelli

These quotes really resonate with me. I have spent my life trying to be Superwoman and then Supermom and sometimes SuperChristian.

Why? Because I bought into the lie that if I'm a Christian, things should always be going right. I'm not sure where we got that idea. Certainly not from the book of Peter. Maybe from Jesus' words in Matthew 11 "my yoke is easy and my burden is light". This "selling" of Christ as a way that all things will be perfect is one area where the American church has gone terribly wrong.

I think this has also been a big factor in processing my pain issues. If I'm a Christian, I shouldn't be in pain, right? This has been said to me as directly as "Your pain is a result of some unrepented sin in your life" and as subtly as "If you had faith, you would be healed." These statements roll around in my head, wearing their familiar grooves along my long-traveled pathways of thought.

I believe God can do miracles - I believe he can heal.
He has not healed my physical body.
How can both statements be true? I don't know - I may spend a lifetime "finding the solution" to this dilemma. Jesus has healed and changed many painful things in my life. I have seen and felt Him at work in me, softening my rough edges, gently showing me things I need to change, and redeeming my heart - making me believe - slowly, slowly - that He loves me so fully. The more I feel the love, the more entranced I am by Him. I have come to believe that I may actually be lovable after all. Perhaps I could never come to know this if I were able to be "Superwoman" and sell Jesus like he were toothpaste. Only by being broken could I know how powerful the Healer is.

The truth is, life is a struggle. My life may be messier than most, but honestly, I doubt it. I have pain, frustrations, difficult babies, and financial realities. Following Jesus doesn't make all these things go away. Instead, I am learning how to forge forward, slogging through the muck of my life, holding firmly to Grace. This is Real. This is where I meet Jesus and where I find love and purpose and hope in the journey.

Filed Under "Faith, Fibromyalgia, Journey, Quotes" on May 27, 2007 | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

Wow – it’s been an exciting month for me. I have finally started to jump in and embrace doing what I love: writing. It’s taken a long time for me to get here: being side-lined by self-doubt, side-tracked by More Urgent Matters and nagged constantly by the question of “who would want to read it?”. Finally, I’m at a place where all those things are quiet enough and I can just DO it.

I look back over my pink toes, look at the start of A Little Squeeze, look at all the files on my hard drive, look at my little black writer’s book of notes and ideas, and see 5 weeks of work. Five weeks of consistent interaction with my love of and passion for words and writing. Five weeks of believing in myself and working through the ups and downs and taking it slow and just keeping doing it.

Some of that writing has made it here, or at my other blog, and some has been of another nature. One of the most significant pieces of writing I did was for my church’s Leadership Team. It wasn’t appropriate to publish it here, but it has been one of the most satisfying pieces of writing I have done. Why? Because of the amazing conversations it has started. The letter began with a short email I sent letting a staff member know I couldn’t teach the new members' class because I was leaving the church. I then had lunches with a couple of different staff members who encouraged me to write my thoughts down on paper. It took about 3 weeks to write, but I felt so excited about the document – I felt like I was doing what I was supposed to do, like in Chariots of Fire where Eric tells his sister, “God also made me fast, and when I run, I feel his pleasure.”. It’s always dangerous when someone starts to tell you that “God told me to do this”. I know that kind of statement is often used to shut people down, because how can you argue with God? But in this instance, I didn’t necessarily feel I was writing God’s words, but the words itself had direct relationship to my feeling the Spirit moving in me. My words had substance, they had meaning – they have started more conversations and made people think. It’s an exciting thing to have put words out there that people are moved enough by to interact with in a meaningful way.

What happens with the letter, or with my blogs is really beside the point. I feel like for the first time I am really stepping out and doing what God made me to do. And I’ve never felt better.

*the title refers back to this post where I alluded to things that were brewing. at that point, I was on the brink of much of the writing described above.

Filed Under "Faith, Journey, Writing" on May 12, 2007 | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

My surgery is tomorrow at 10 am.

I'm getting nervous and scared. (Finally). I knew this was going to happen and was wondering when it would finally hit me. I'm so excited for "the rest of my life" to start, and I'm eager to get this done, but I'm still nervous.

I'm told that a common "first reaction" upon waking up from surgery is regret. I've heard it comes from the idea that they were feeling fine the day before and now they did something so invasive and made themselves feel so physically bad - on purpose!

I know I'm not going to have that reaction. I'm not trying to sound arrogant or special here, it's just that I have so many health and chronic pain issues (hardly any are weight related, by the way), and spend so much of my time in doctors' offices, having testing done and the like, that the hospital experience itself is not really out-of-the-norm for me. Also, frankly, I am in pain every day of my life. It's not like I'm going to go in feeling great (because I almost never do) and come out feeling worse than ever (although perhaps I am minimizing surgery, here).

Lastly, I had my tonsils taken out 5 years ago, at the age of 30. THAT, my friends, truly sucked. I was in horrible, horrible pain for 3 entire weeks. I knew I'd be bad going in, and it really was. I also knew it would be worth it to reduce all the throat and ear infections I'd had over the many years, and it was. The short term was horrible, but the long-term has been so worth it. I'm thinking this Lap-Band surgery is going to be the same way.

I'm starting to have butterflies and lightheadedness. I think it's because my habits are so drastically going to change. I'm getting the Lap-Band because I NEED the help to change my habits. If I could do it by myself without the Band, I would have. There are some deep psychological barriers I've had to changing my habits, otherwise they wouldn't so be so ingrained. It is going to be very very painful to change all these habits. I have been reluctant to change my habits for a reason. I know this weight has been my protection - my barrier against some deep hurts. I don't really understand why it's been so hard to let go of it, but I know there is much more here than just "eating too much because it tastes good". I'm scared to face the emotional issues. I'm so glad I have my therapist, my fabulous husband, and my amazingly supportive friends and family.

I feel like I'm preparing to climb a mountain: I know it will be long, hard, cold, exhausting, dangerous work. I'm going to slip. I'm going to feel like I've run out of air. Sometimes, I will hate myself for starting this journey at all. And then, someday in the next two years, I will hit the summit. I will look out from the top of the mountain and lose my breath at the beauty of it all. I will be scarred. I will have learned a lot. It will be worth it.

[Read more about my Lap-Band Journey at A Little Squeeze]

Filed Under "Journey, Lap Band::A Little Squeeze, Medical Freak(out)" on April 29, 2007 | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

I'm working on writing more and developing my voice. I've also been writing a lot about my faith in Jesus and about my passions. Lydia from Emerging Women has started a blog for those writing about faith to share and solicit feedback. It's called, straightforwardly enough, Writing About Faith.

I put a link up there with my last essay in it. Please head over there and offer me some feedback, or give me some right here. You can leave it in the comments or email me at Leah AT mypinktoes DOT com.

Come join the writing community - I look forward to your feedback!

Filed Under "Faith, Journey, Meta, Writing" on April 19, 2007 | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

Whew! It's been a crazy couple days here on the back end of my pink toes! Tech-savvy husband upgraded my harddrive from a measly 20G to a robust 80G (an $80 solution, instead of the $2500 new-laptop-solution).

Since he's a software developer, I am very lucky to have him doing all my IT. At the same time, it's kind of like having a best friend cut your hair - it removes the ability to have a nameless entity to rage about when things get frustrating.* I can't complain about the crazy nitpicky IT guy who is so perfectionistic and therefore is taking forEVER to upgrade my harddrive because, well, I'm married to him. And he has feelings. (Ok, so I CAN complain about him...I just have to do it nicely, or on my blog...)

Anyway, I'm pretty much up and running now. I've also spent the entire day (sorry, kids) learning more HTML, CSS, and Movable Type code. (Check out my fancy new archive styles that actually display my masthead and show links on the right – cool, eh?!)

Coinciding with this technical upgrade was the decision to let a few “real life” friends know about this blog. Having my computer down and giving my friends my URL has made me feel a little, well, vulnerable. I hadn’t realized how personal my computer is to me. I have(had) it all set up the way I want it – visually and technically. And by extension, my blog is extremely personal as I put my writing out here for everyone to see, even though it’s not necessarily the way I want it yet.

In all areas of my life, I am evolving. I have spent my life waiting. Waiting for what? Waiting to be “perfect enough” to let others see the REAL me.

I’m finally realizing that true relationship comes when we reach out to others and share in the process. We are always in process; this is what it means to be human. It is to be celebrated instead of lamented.

I’m also learning this over and over in my faith. I’m convinced God is much more interested in the process than in waiting for the forever-elusive “perfect” result.

I’m sure I’ll need to be reminded again.

* Actually, one of my best friends DOES cut my hair. And she does a fabulous job, so I don’t miss having someone to rage about. Really, Shona – it looks great – always!

Filed Under "Dave Smith: Wonder Husband, Faith, Journey, Meta" on March 11, 2007 | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

People used to say I was the happiest person they knew (some, amazingly, still do). I find that so interesting. I am a very optimistic, glass-half-full-make-the-best-of-it person, but I had a tough emotional climate in my home and was unclear about a lot. Yet, I seemed to have a sense of purpose and joy.

I credit all of this to God and the faith and hope he gave me. Yet I wonder how I got it. How did I feel so called to Him, in the midst of all the bad examples and pain and wrong images? Why did God reach into my life and help pull me bit by bit out of misery? Why did I not succumb to the pain and adopt one of my family’s long litany of unhealthy coping mechanism? (Well, you may argue that I have adopted some…but that’s another entry.) Sometimes this question drives me crazy. I can’t see eye-to-eye with Calvin on the whole predestination thing, so I have to stop looking for answers to this question pretty fast. I believe in the amazing, redemptive love of Jesus. Why is it for me? Why do others take a different path?

I think the answer is that there are lots of answers. I’m getting more comfortable with this, the lack of black and white in the world. I think the world is less black and white than I was told to believe. But instead of this leaving me in a world of grey, it leaves me in a world of a rainbow. There is more room for color, for expression, for beautiful paradox. I am in the middle of a long journey.

Underneath this “happiest” person is a lifetime of real thoughts, desires, heartaches and struggles that I’ve never effectively dealt with. I have deep wounds in places that will be difficult to heal. I’ve been on this real journey for about 5 years now. In a way, I feel that I’m getting to really know myself for the first time.

I know many have written about their journey before, and many will after me. Sometimes this realization paralyzes me – makes me think I have nothing to say that hasn’t been said before. Maybe this is true. But it is enough that I am saying it for the first time for myself. Hopefully someone will find bits of Truth and Hope in my journey, like I have found through the journey of many others.

Thanks for joining me.

Filed Under "Faith, Journey, Medical Freak(out), Meta" on December 27, 2006 | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)