As the World Turns

I was diagnosed with lupus one year ago this week. Happy lupie-versary to me!

Last week I saw a little light at the end of the tunnel... a small glimmer of hope that my condition will improve, I will regain some energy, I will eventually live pain-free. I felt like the chemo was "kicking in," just like I asked you to pray last week.

However, last week was a glorious week, a restful week, a week with very few responsibilities.

Michael had the entire week off from work. We took the week off from homeschool. No one was even allowed to say the word "algebra." Mom cooked our Thanksgiving meal, and it was delicious and provided leftovers that kept me from cooking for a few more days.

And that was a good thing considering what happens when I step into the kitchen these days. (Read that link if you need a good laugh.)

I was well-rested when I took my shot last week and I didn't feel too sick afterward. I had a pretty decent weekend, and if Brian hadn't gotten sick, I would have even made it to church for the first time in a few weeks.

We had to re-enter reality on Monday, though, and today I have spent the entire morning in bed. The past three days have taken all my spoons, and I am a lifeless blob today. We are finishing up our school week, from my bed, as I type this. I will take my shot at 8:30-ish tonight and then start the process of resting and regaining spoons again tomorrow.

I guess what's most on my heart today is that the world doesn't stop turning for you when you are sick. I wish every week could be exactly like Thanksgiving, but the reality is that Michael has to work and we have children to raise. It would be nice to say, "Hey, Mom's gotta give up all this teaching and cooking and taking care of y'all because she has to do chemo right now." But the reality is that I will be on this stuff for at least a year if not longer.

If things go according to plan, Ben will be driving and Brian will be in high school before I'm off chemo.

Some of you might wonder why I can't send them to school or give up the co-op or do a hundred other things to make things easier for me. But the short answer is that I can't do any of that. The long answer would be a really long blog post.

So it's hard. And I appreciate your prayers.

This week pray for perseverance and for wisdom. Pray that I will have the grace and help I need to do the work God has for me to do, that I will have the humility to delegate the work that someone else could do, and that I will have the wisdom to stop and rest when needed.

Pray also that I won't grow weary in well doing because there are so many things that I just can't delegate. They really are my work, and mine alone to do. You moms get that, I know. But I truly believe that if I pour myself out now, even though I feel like slamming the door shut and telling everyone to leave me alone, that I will reap in due time. Pray that I will keep my eyes on the prize, because even though my running is more like hobbling, I can still win the race set before me by obeying God, trusting Him, and receiving grace from Him to do what He has prepared for me to do.

Thanks for praying.






p.s. It didn't quite fit into the body of this post but some of you have asked about my hair. It is thinning. I frequently find little balls of it rolling around the house like bits of tumbleweed. It has clogged our tub drain twice, too. However, I was blessed with extra, extra thick hair, and so no one can tell at.all. Unless it gets worse as more chemo gets into my system, I may dodge the baldness bullet. That is a mercy I am thankful for.