A Heart That Blesses

There are a couple of things I’ve learned that have helped me through this health scare:  how we react is up to us, and perspective is everything.  So, I chose from the beginning to see the lab results as a sign from God.  The evening I got the results, I wrote:  He is showing me that it is time for real change and a lifestyle refurbishment.  I am okay.  Everything will be okay.  I trust God, myself, life, the world.  This will be a blessing.

I began the weekend with big lists and big plans for changes, things that I’ve been working towards for a while now.  Things like going to bed at a decent hour, getting back to exercising five times a week, and sticking with a strict but healthy nutrition plan.  The biggest change is to create more balance between our busyness and downtime.  Ultimately, I knew that I had to de-stress my life as well as learn to handle stress better.

Then, I talked to my uncle who cautioned me to start slow.  Yes, make real changes, he advised, but don’t try to do it all at once because that will create more stress as well as set you up for failure.  When I shared this with Lexi later, she said, “How’d he get so smart?!”  He’s absolutely correct.  One of my problems has been moving from extreme to extreme, and it’s time for balance.

During our phone conversation, my uncle mentioned something about how capable I am, and I began to cry because I finally figured out why I have felt so intensely stressed over the past several years.  Well, it’s partly because there have been so many “hits” to handle, and I feel overwhelmed.  Events and changes like the ones in my life are stressful.  Period.  Yet, it’s also because I feel so alone.  Now I know that I am capable and strong, that I can do whatever is needed, that I can make things work, create what I want.  A few years ago, I didn’t know this.  Now that I do, rather than taking comfort, I’ve felt stressed because it means more and more piled on top of me.  Just because I can handle a lot doesn’t mean I should.  Just because I am capable of doing it all alone doesn’t mean I should.  I have felt so alone for a long time, even during the latter part of my marriage, and that feeling had triggered a fight or flight response in my body that has been near the surface this whole time.  And, all last month with the added dog responsibility, the stress reflex went through the roof.  Wound way too tight, I was inhaling rescue remedy gummies like candy.  The conversation with my uncle and releasing tears helped me settle down.  Be more calm and at peace.  Since then, I have started incorporating small changes, little things at a time, things I know I can do on a consistent basis.

We were so glad to have a chance to go to church again on Sunday, and it was inspiring.  Everything was exactly what I needed to hear, as if God were talking directly to me.  This Sunday, the pastor started a new series called “Heart Strings,” and this week’s message was Psalm 139, about “The God who is always there” with his presence and love. I am keeping the notes along with the first 16 verses from the chapter next to my bed to read when needed.  If you are feeling alone or afraid, read that chapter! 

Near the end of the service, we sang some Kristian Stanfill lyrics: 

Trouble surrounds me, chaos abounding.

My soul will rest in you.

I will not fear the war, I will not fear the storm,

My help is on the way, my help is on the way.

Oh my God, He will not delay,

My refuge and strength, always.

I will not fear, His promise is true,

My God will come through always, always. 

I lift my eyes up, my help comes from the Lord. 

My eyes watered, but I sang along, letting the words wash over me, healing and soothing.  I felt my body release and my muscles unwind.  It was as if I let go of the stress, the weight that I had been holding onto so tightly for so long.

As usual, on the way home and around the lunch table, we discussed what we took from the service.  I realized that part of my stress has come from believing lies such as I am alone and I have to do it all alone.  It’s time to embrace the truth that God is always with me and that I have many wonderful people around me.

The next morning I woke up relaxed yet intensely sore.  It hurt to move, and I don’t remember feeling this level of pain since I started going to the Fix on a regular basis.  I stretched, took some deep breaths, walked Thorin for 30 minutes, and later went to my Fix muscle massage therapy appointment.  While there, I proposed that perhaps my muscle enzymes were high because of stress and maybe I am this sore because I had been clenching my muscles and finally released them.

In the Nehemiah study, we recently discussed being willing to be, simply be and “show up,” where God wants you and moving “full circle.”  Kelly Minter writes, “God had brought Nehemiah full circle, beginning at one broken gate on the circumference all the way around to the very same gate, only on this day all had been made new…we have reason to hope He will work with the same restorative power in our lives…Where the place we stand remains the same but everything around us has changed, this is full circle.  This is a miracle.”

On Monday night, the doctor called me.  I’d dropped my results off at his office on Saturday, and an evening phone call terrified me.  Would he tell me to go to the ER right now?  Would he want to run expensive tests, prescribe medicine, or perform surgery?  Would he say my heart was broken and needed repair?  How would I afford anything that he wanted me to do?    

I answered the phone, unlocked the patio door, opened it, and walked outside for better reception. 

“Everything looks good,” he said.  “Just have blood work done in another three months to see where you are then.”

At first I argued with him.  Not that I wanted anything to be wrong, but that I wanted to know I was really okay.  He said he wasn’t concerned with the one high number but that he could order a specific heart test, if I wanted.  He asked about other symptoms to confirm that he doesn’t think there’s a problem at this time.  He said to contact him if new symptoms appear, but other than that, simply test everything again in a few months.  He agreed with my theory about the high stress levels impacting the results of the blood work and even agreed with my uncle about making changes in a slow but steady manner. 

A small smile lingered as I hung up, and I rushed in to give the girls the good news.  “But we have to take this as a warning sign,” I cautioned.  “It’s still important to de-stress our lives and move towards balance and health.” 

A good writing friend sent me an email today, worried about me and the title of my blog and encouraging me to focus on the positive and be aware of self-fulfilling prophecies.  She’s right.  “A Heart That Breaks” is the title of the Nehemiah book that I’ve been studying at church, and having a heart that breaks is meant in a positive way in the book:  a compassionate heart, a heart like God’s, a heart that hurts for others and helps others.  I agree with these things, and I choose to express a compassionate heart a bit differently.  My heart has been broken—for myself, for my daughters, for others.  Now, I have a heart that heals—for myself, for my daughters, for others.  I have a heart that blesses—myself, my daughters, others.  We each have a choice.  Which do you choose?

A Forever Goodbye

 On Tuesday, when we came home, Thorin was still in his kennel, and all was well.  I was so grateful.  That evening, Sam dashed past us, out the door, and ran in the neighborhood for an hour.  Laina chased him while I rushed to pick up Lexi and take her to dance for the next three hours, leaving Laina home alone to take care of the dogs.  That night, Sam kept coming up and staring at us with his big brown eyes, telling us his discontentment, asking for more fun outside.  We all went on a walk before bed, but he wanted to run.

On Wednesday, I left them home alone for a couple of hours while I went to the Nehemiah study, which was inspiring and helpful.  So worth it!  Sam and Thorin, however, were sad from being left alone even for such a short time, so I took them to my friend’s backyard to run while I swam laps.  Several times, Sam jumped in to swim with me, and he had a blast.  I got a call about homes for them five hours south of us.  At first, I was hopeful, but when I discovered that Sam would become an outdoor guard dog and Thorin would live on a boat that was headed to Mexico, I deflated.  They wouldn’t be happy in those situations, so we were back to square one. 

When I arrived home, they tried to chase the cats.  I forgot that I’d opened the bedroom door for the cats to explore while we were gone.  Little by little, we have been introducing the cats and dogs to each other.  Piper runs and hides, but Zeus is curious…until he has a dog right in his face, and then he hisses and runs back into the bedroom.  Both dogs will stare at the cats with curiosity, but they also still chase after the cats.

This time, on Thursday, we leave all the pets home for eight hours.  I teach two classes and have office hours.  Lexi sends me a text that she’s in the clinic at school because her ear hurts so much.  I have another class to teach, so she has to stay at school but they won’t give her any pain reliever.  I worry about her but am glad she was able to text me.  My phone broke last week, so our cell phone situation is also a mess.  I have Lexi’s phone, she has one of her older phones (because the one I bought her off Craigslist wouldn’t receive or send any texts), Laina has a cracked phone.  I know the phones are a metaphor:  we literally have trouble communicating via our phones just as we are having trouble communicating with ourselves, each other, the world, God.  We don’t want to listen to the truth about the dogs.  Before leaving work, I get a distressing email regarding finances.

I am feeling discouraged, defeated, and angry when I go to my twenty-minute Fix appointment, yet the muscle therapy helps me release the negative emotions along with the tensed muscles.  We discuss the body-mind connection, and I feel so much better when I leave—relaxed and centered again.

That afternoon, we all arrive home at the same time.  Laina lets Sam out of the bathroom and says, “You’ve got to come see this.”  The dogs are dancing around us, and Lexi hurries over to look.  Both girls have nervous grins of disbelief on their faces.  They grab the leashes and take the dogs out, insisting that I wait until they are outside to see for myself. 

I take a deep breath and walk into the demolished bathroom.  Paint peelings are scattered all over the bathroom floor, and the bottom half of the door is completely scratched free of white paint.  Bite marks etch the siding, and black hair litters the floor. 

I’ve got nothing.  My feelings shut down, my mind shuts down, and my words are gone. 

He wanted out.  He wanted to be with us.  He didn’t mean to destroy anything.  I know all of that.  At the same time, my responsibility and financial threshold is already overflowing, and I …

The girls bring the dogs back inside, and Lexi starts crying.  Laina follows, and they both cry.  We sit at the dining room table, the dogs lying at our feet, and I ask what’s going on with them.

Laina says, “What do you think?!  We’re gonna have to get rid of the dogs.  We’re all exhausted and the dogs aren’t happy and the cats are…”

Lexi interrupts, “I knew it.  I knew we would have to let them go, but I didn’t want to face it.  When Dad first told us, I knew we’d have to say goodbye to them, but I thought he was gonna give them to a friend and that was okay because they’d be together and they’d be happy.  It’d easier if I hadn’t seen them again.  But when he mentioned taking them to a kill shelter, I knew it was right to bring them here even if I knew it wouldn’t work.  Why did they have to stay so long?  When they were first here, I was okay with them going to a foster home, to saying a temporary goodbye.  How can we break them up?  They’ll be so sad.  How can we give them away?  I know it’s the right thing to do, but they’re our family and it’s like giving away part of your family. This is just like the divorce all over again.  We’re breaking up our family again.  I know we can see the good in it, that we’re learning, that we have to let go of them to let go of the past, but why do we have so many hard things to go through.  I’m glad we get the hard things, glad for this opportunity because it’s an opportunity for emotional and spiritual growth.  I know that there will be something good come from this, and that’s why it has to happen. God is actually telling me that it’s okay to let them go.  But it’s just really hard.” 

“I’m sorry this is hurting you girls so much. I’d give anything if we could keep them.  Something good will happen, and remember we’re doing what we think is best for them and all of us.”  I pause.  “You might want to say goodbye to them tonight.”

Lexi sobbed, “Why?  It doesn’t have to be so soon.  I’m not ready.”

“It has to be this weekend ‘cuz we can’t leave them home alone again.  Do you wanna go with me to take them to a rescue place?”

“Yes.  It’d be easier if they were dying because then we’d know what happens to them.  If we give them up, we won’t know how they’re being treated or if they’re happy.”

Laina adds, “Exactly!  It’s like giving a baby up for adoption and not knowing.  You don’t know if they’re gonna abuse them or if they’re gonna love them or if they mistreat them.” 

“That’s why we wanna carefully choose a rescue place and not just take the first option.  The ones that take labs make sure they have a good home with people who adore labs.  Remember what you read this morning?  God turns our curses into blessings because He loves us.  It’ll be okay.  For all of us.”

We eat dinner and then take the dogs to run, swim, and play in our friend’s backyard.  The girls treasure every moment, knowing they will soon have to say a forever goodbye.