I'm re-reading a book called Hinds Feet on Highplaces. It reminds me of Pilgrims Progress. I just finished a chapter where Much Afraid, the main character, and her two companions were trudging along in a thick mist, facing huge storms and scaling impossible mountains.
I found myself getting a little irritated with Much Afraid. Every time she faced another "impossible" task that the Shepherd had asked her to do, she cowered, cried, trembled, and generally turned into a sniveling little brat. (Can you tell compassion is something I need to work on at times?) I mean, come on, the Shepherd had never failed her yet. He guided her through every trial, yet the moment she had successfully gotten through one her memory seemed to desert her when it came to facing the next one. The Shepherd had to come alongside her again and again, comforting her, assuring her, telling her he would never leave her.... What a picture of patience.
And yes, then I realized that Much Afraid was a picture of me. God has been so faithful my entire life. He has never left me. Even though in the past couple of years there have been some pretty difficult mountains to scale and several patches of mist to trudge through, He has always been there holding my hand. When my memory deserts me and fear starts to set in He is quick to remind me through His Word or someone in my life that He has it all under control.
When you feel like you are trudging in a mist and not knowing what direction to go this is very comforting.
At the moment I am seeing a doctor of Chiropractic medicine in Chicago. I have personally met a few people he has helped who had cancer, one of which had the "untreatable" kind, as well. Not the same as mine, but still, the fact that his was untreatable, too, encouraged me. :-)
He adjusted me, tested my body for what it needs to heal, gave me a plan, some supplements, and encouragement. He thinks what I have is treatable. I am allowing myself to be cautiously optimistic. I don't want to because I hate getting excited and then being let down. But as Rae, my sister, firmly told me, "You have to let yourself hope, Becca. Hope is half of healing." So, I'm allowing myself to hope. If I get disappointed, well, God will help me deal with that, as well. For now, all signs point towards hope.
I was put on yet another cleanse. I'm telling you, if my innards aren't spanking clean by the end of this it won't be for lack of trying. This one was lemon juice, freshly squeeze, from two lemons, and two T. of olive oil. Shake together and enjoy. The only way I got it down was having my two girls clap their hands and shout, "Go Mommy, Go Mommy, Go Mommy!" And mommy downed it. Their favorite part was the face I made at the end of it. Mine was seeing their little faces.
I missed the part where I only had to take it seven days, so ended up taking it eleven. My liver and gall bladder should be happy for the extra cleaning they got. My taste buds are expecting thank you notes any day for what they were put through.
But you know what? I feel better. I haven't had this much energy for a very long time. Yes, I still have pain, but hardly any. I'm still on my diet that the nutritionist put me on. I had to cut my fiber in half so that my body would keep the supplements in that I'm taking and I get to have 5 oz. of plain yogurt. Also, drum roll here, I get strawberries, kiwi, cantaloupe, and now an occasional red apple. I am in heaven. Funny thing is, with this new liberty my body has craved the wrong kind of sugar more. I haven't given in, but it has been more of a test.
Below is proof of my new energy.
On our way to the Chicago Zoo.
Walking from the train to the Bean in downtown Chicago. It was a long walk, trust me.
Walking all over the Brookfield Zoo. This was an even longer walk.
And all this was done with very little sleep and taking care of my girls mostly by myself.
We got home yesterday and today I had the energy to get laundry going, grocery shop, make breakfast, and plan a park outing later today with the girls.
I feel like I'm bragging, and really, compared to what I should be able to do this isn't much, but I want you to be cautiously optimistic with me.
I haven't been given any guarantees, but I have been given something that is making me feel better now, not just playing a waiting game hoping they find something that can make me feel better eventually.
Praise God for this! He has allowed me to feel somewhat normal for the first time in a long time and for whatever time I have in this phase I am so grateful.
I'll post more pictures of our Chicago adventures in the next few days. I've got some precious pictures of my little munchkins.