I am Hungry...

Because.....pain.....for a believer....is God's stamp of love on your heart.
Pain is God saying...."Child. I am crazy about you."

I read a blog post yesterday, and it ignited in me something beautiful. Pain, it says, does something to me that nothing else can do. It pulls me away from myself and pushes me to Jesus.
And it's true. It is in my pain, admist my brokenness, that I find myself crawling to the only One who can help me. It is in my pain that I see how much I truely need Jesus, and that He is the only hope I have.
Pain is not at all a place where I want to be, but it is in my desperation that I find Jesus.
I read once about chasing after Jesus with desperation. The analogy it used was this:
Imagine you haven't eaten for days. You are ravenously hungry. One day a truck comes to the village where you are and it's filled with food. You aren't going to stand at the back of the line, holding out your bowl and say "If it's not too much of a bother, could I please have some food?" You're going to charge that truck. You are going to climb over and under and do everything you can possibly do to make sure you get some food.
Why is it only in my pain that I see how truely hungry I am? Why is it only when I am in the middle of pain that I recognize my hunger and charge that truck? Why, when everything is going just fine, do I not see my need?
I want my attitude to be that of the one who is charging the truck. I want to be the one doing everything in my power to get the nourishment my body, and soul, craves. Jesus, the bread of life. I am hungry, and I don't want to be the one who stands by and watches while my hunger rages on. I want to be the one who charges the truck, the one who chases after the nourishment that is found in Jesus.

If you want to check out that blog post I was talking about, you can find it here: http://beautyinweakness.blogspot.com/2011/11/barren-one.html

Inertia

"You think you're going to die. And then you think maybe you can beat it, maybe you'll be the miracle. And then this - good news - and you don't know what to do."
I heard this quote while watching Grey's Anatomy last night (Season 6 was one of my birthday presesnts!) and I think it totally fits with how I feel.
I thought I was going to die. In your mind, you automatically go to that place, the place where it's always the worst case. As much as I tried to keep myself from going there, it didn't work. In my mind, I was fearing the worst, and in my mind I thought it was possible that I would die.
And then there's that what-if. What if it isn't something awful? What if I can beat whatever this is? What if...
And then it happens, the best case scenerio, the best news that you are probably going to get. And I don't know what to do. I don't know how to react to this, how to understand. I don't know what to do.
Everything has changed, everything has shifted. The road I was walking on has become a different road, full of twists and turns and bumps, new adjustments I have to make. It's all changed.
In Science today we learned about inertia.
Inertia is the tendancy to resist change.
In school we were talking about it in regards to physics, but I can't help but think it applies to me too.
I've been given this diagnosis, which is about as good as it is going to get. I'm going to stay on my meds and we're going to keep an eye on it. I was bracing myself for something bad, and now that it's the best case scenerio, I don't know what to do.
Everything has changed, and it's all different now, and it's not at all what I thought it was going to be... and I don't know what to do.
I guess it's ok to grieve. It's ok to walk around in this not knowing state for a while. It's ok to be afraid, knowing that things could change in an instant, and that there will be pain and difficulties in my future. It's ok for me to not know what to do. What I thought was going to happen, what I braced myself for, it's not happening, and that's a good thing, but everything I was preparing myself for has changed, and everything I was used to before has changed to, stretching and shifting to accomodate this new diagnosis.
It's ok to not know, but I can't be stuck in this inertia, in this place where I am unwilling to accomodate change, and to grow.
So I don't know, and for now that's ok. Everything I thought I had has changed, and it's ok to grieve over the loss of what I had. But I need to make changes, to adjust. I can't stay here forever, I need to let this cause me to grow. Soon, I think, everything will be a little easier. Hopefully it will be easier to understand, and to keep my footing as my world shifts around me.

Cause when you're 15...

I'm officially 15. Is that as crazy to everybody else as it is to me?

I woke up this morning nervous, like I was waiting for something to happen. It was wierd.
I went to church this morning, and then after church I went out for lunch with my amazing group of friends (Beth, Carissa, Tyson, Jaydon, Jenna, Nick, Mitch and Annika!) Seriously, SO much fun.
We got home and barely had time to breathe before my family arrived for a party!
My auntie made me some sugar free cake (And yes, it was really good.) and we ran out of candles so I blew out some tea lights that were set on top of my cake!
The plan is to wrap up this wonderful birthday by watching some Grey's Anatomy.
All in all, this was a great birthday. I spent it with the people I love the most, and that makes it amazing. Possibly the best birthday to date.
Thanks to all my amazing friends and family who spent the day celebrating with me. So thankful to have such great people in my life.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pb-K2tXWK4w&ob=av2n

Today I got to collect...

My prize. Yeah, I know, it's pretty nice.
I'm reading through the rough copy now, editing and finding those little things that need to be fixed.
So far I've added a couple hundred words, and deleated some too but added enough that my word count has gained more then it has lost.
Since I am a NaNo Winner, the NaNoWriMo organization is publishing 5 free copies for me through Create Space. After that, I don't know what I'll do with it. Maybe publish it, since I'm sure many people are waiting to read it.
I feel sort of shy about publishing it, though. For the month of November it's been my project, my secret, my baby. I emailed a copy to my best friend today, and I'll see what she thinks. Maybe her opinion will help me decide what to do with this 51116 word baby of mine.

Have I read it yet?

The possibly surprising answer to this question is no. No, I have not read my novel yet. I've read bits and pieces, editing a little here and there (Over 51000 words now.) But I haven't read the whole thing.
Has anybody else read it? No. My best friend has read the first 3ish pages, but the story has changed so much since those first days.
Cai is asking to read it once it's finished, and I promised she can, and she will.
For now, though, I'm not ready. Tomorrow is the day where the word count valadation can start and the winners can start being announced. Tomorrow I feel like it won't just be my novel anymore.
But for now, it's still my novel. It's my secret... and I like it that way.

This last bit

The novel is complete. The 50,000 word goal has been reached. I'm just shy of 51000 words, but I'm sure my word count is bound to go up and down a bit as I get into the editing stage.
Now to read it...

47683

I'm tired... of writing.
I'm almost done, with the story in it's final stages, with only a small 2317 words left.
But I'm tired. My brain is turning to mush inside my head.
But I need to finish strong.
This story is turning out to be better then I ever imagined it would be. It's turning out to be more honest and real then I ever thought it would be in the begining.
I don't know what I'll do with if, if it will ever turn into something I'll be proud to share, or if it does if I'll ever have the nerve to let people read it... but with the end goal in sight I need to finish strong.
I think I can, I think I can, I think I can...

41356 ~ Moving Forward

Monday, October 11, 2010
I didn’t give Claire the letter today, and I felt like I don’t need to. I was thinking today, about stories, and about moving on.
I’ve been told to move on, to try and live a normal life despite the disease which haunts me always, but I realized that I don’t have to, move on that is.
I am forever changed, by the genetic condition which has resided in my body since birth, and by the Esophagitis, the ulcers, that took up residence in my esophagus. I don’t need to move on, or get past this.
I can’t move on, because these conditions have changed me forever. I have become stronger, braver, a fighter, but I have also experienced pain in a way most others have not. I can’t try to live normally again because something has changed, something that keeps me from being the person I once was.
When I was younger, I could handle the Glycogen Storage Disease. I was a kid, I didn’t know any better. But as I grew, I began to realize that not everyone was like this, and that I was different. Not everyone took trips to the hospital a few times a year to see specialists. Not everyone spent Valentine’s Day and thanksgiving and Easter in the hospital. Not everyone had narrowly escaped death… by the time they were 5. When I realized the truth of my reality, the pain cut into me like a knife. After my coma, for the first time I wondered if maybe I was too damaged by this sickness. Over time, though, it was easier to keep going, and for the deep wound that the sickness had cut into me to begin to scar over.
When I was diagnosed again, this year, the pain came again. There was another wound, another cut, another earth shaking reality that I now had to deal with, and find a way to cope with and survive with. But when it came to dealing with this new wound, I felt like I was, and am, more prepared, more ready to face the shifting of the ground and the acceptance of a new reality.
I can never live normally; never move past this, because it is forever a part of me, sewn into me. There’s no moving past, only moving forward. There’s no living normally, only finding a new normal. There are scars, but they are like the delicate lined pattern on a butterfly’s wings, unattractive until you get close enough to see the beauty that is hidden there.
There is weakness, but it is held by God’s strength. There is grief, but it is sustained by the everlasting hope, the stars that shine even on those blackest nights. There is no moving on, only moving forward. So I will let those scars bring forth something beautiful, and like the delicate butterfly, I will fly towards the sun.

37373 ~ Fictionalizing friends

In this process of writing this novel, I've been realizing that some of the people in Sophie's life are modeled after some of the people in mine. Sophie's parents are modeled after mine, as are her grandparents. Her close group of friends are modeled after mine (actually, if they read the book a couple of them might recognize some of our stories in there.) I've taken bits and pieces of the people that I love best, and woven them into these characters, who I'm also growing to love. So thank you family and friends, for lending bits and pieces of yourself to this novel, even though you have no idea yet :)
Here's a bit of what's been happening over in my novel:

I used to think of myself like one of those old wind-ups toys who popped a spring or a teddy bear whose stitching came loose and the nose is rubbed off. I am placed on the shelf in the back of the closet, something no one wants because it isn’t perfect. But once you are loved, you can’t be broken to anyone but yourself. Broken isn’t how you’re made, but a label you put on yourself. Once you are loved the only one who can call you broken is yourself. Other people, when they love you, they don’t see the brokenness that you think you are, or the pain that towers inside you for always. They see the person, the heart. Then, when they see that, the only person who can say you’re broken is yourself.

32000 ~ Here's the Diagnosis...

They remind you of the things you know you know. They love you through the times when you honestly don't know. They're my friends, the family I chose for myself. They are the people who claim me, the good and the bad. Nothing totally feels real until I run it by them, not new diagnosises or changes. When I tell them, it's finally like it's real, it's happening, and I'll be ok. No matter how bad it is, I'll get through it because I have them to lean on. Thanks Ministry team, for being the best friends I could ask for. You've loved me through the tough times and reminded me of those things I know that I know but tend to forget when obstacles rise up in front of me.
With that said, it's time I share my new diagnosis with the world, after disclosing it to my team tonight and having it all sink in, and gaining the strength to face it.
I have been diagnosed with esophagitis (The big fancy medical name for it.) Breaking it down it is basically chronic inflamation and ulcers of the esophogus. It won't ever fully go away. I could tell you all the statistics I found (Been googling non-stop since I got the diagnosis) but I'll spare you all that medical talk. Know that it could have been much worse, but what it ended up being is still not good. It almost feels like to me as if we are treading on thin ice.
I know I should be grateful that it only is what it is. But my world has shifted, I have lost my footing, and I’m kind of busy trying to adjust to this new way of life right now to be thankful for what it only is.
Thanks all for your prayers and support over this last little while. I appreciate it.

Quote in italics is from the book I'm writing...

30005~ Broken

I've reached 30,000 words! Writing this novel, it seems, it my place to escape. It's the place I go to when everything gets to be to much, and I'm finding out some very interesting things about myself, about life, about love. I'll just keep pushing on, keep writing this story that nested in my heart and pleaded for me to write it.

"I used to think of myself like one of those old wind-ups toys who popped a spring or a teddy bear whose stitching came loose and the nose is rubbed off. I am placed on the shelf in the back of the closet, something no one wants because it isn’t perfect. But once you are loved, you can’t be broken to anyone but yourself. Broken isn’t how you’re made, but a label you put on yourself. Once you are loved the only one who can call you broken is yourself."

28056 ~ Pro Life Forum

For NaNoWriMo this year, I've been involved in the forums. It's a great way to get support in my writing journey, and I've met a few really great other young Christian writers.
One of the forums I've become involved in this year is a Pro-Life forum. Since the theme of my book has to do with Pro-life, I was hoping to get a new perspective and just some ideas on where to go with my novel.
Our conversation is on abortion. The main question we've been on was "If abortion murder?" But we've expanded on to when the baby becomes an actual person and the mother's choice.
It's been a tough forum. I've been listening to every side, weighing in and offering my opinion in a non-judgemental sort of way. It's hard, to honestly believe something with your whole heart, and have other people against you, and to offer your opinion and beliefs in a non-judgemental way.
Why is the baby considered more of a human at 20 weeks then it was at 19? Why is a baby not considered a human, despite the beating heart and brain waves and hands and feet, just because it can't live apart from it's mother?
Why, because the baby hasn't yet reached a certain stage, is it not considered a human? Wouldn't that be like killing a newborn because it can't yet walk or talk?
Weighing in on this debate has been hard, but I won't let my voice go unheard. I won't let them say "She did nothing."
I won't stand here and let the innocent be killed and not do anything.

25165~ Half Way

I'm at the halfway point of my story. 25165 words, 51 pages.
It's coming along, slowly but surely. Some bits have been harder to write then others. Some days the words flow easily and some days it's more of a struggle to get out the words that rest inside my heart, begging to be told.
I haven't been posting that many pieces with my surgery and medical updates, but it's coming along. It makes me proud. Maybe I'll find a snippet to share on Monday.
Until then I'll just keep... on... writing

Sorrows Divided on a Wednesday

Tonight I had my first ministry team since my surgery.
Have I mentioned lately how much I love those guys?
They are the best support team I could ask for, the best listeners, the best people at cheering me up, just the best group of friends.
They may not understand everything I'm going through, but they love me, no matter what. They are there behind me, loving me through it, cheering me on, letting me borrow their strength when I need it.
There's an old quote that says "Let it be that a joy shared is a joy multiplied and a sorrow shared is a sorrow divided"
It is definatly that way with my group of friends. Our joys are shared and multiplied, and our sorrows are divided.
It makes me thankful, thankful for this group of friends who have chosen to take my sorrows and divide it among themselves, that have chosen to bear this burden with me, and love me through it, letting me borrow their strength when I need it most.
I'm thankful, for sorrows divided on a Wednesday.

Finally Home

I'm home! I was released from the hospital last night, but stayed over at a hotel in case there were any issues or whatever. We drove home this morning.
I'm exhausted, a little sore and in some pain.
The arm where they put my IV in is kind of blown up and hard (Not so swollen anymore, but hard) but should hopefully go back to normal soon.
My stomach is still pretty sore, both from the air they pumped into me during the procedures and from not being on the meds anymore. Who knew after only being off them for 2 days the pain I had before would come back?
We should get the results of the biopsies on Monday, which should tell us what's wrong.
Anyway, I am so glad to finally be home, and hope I'll start feeling better soon.

Thanks everyone for all your prayers. And thank-you thank-you thank-you to Jaydon, Tyler, Jenna, Carissa, Beth and Cairo for sending me great letters to read while I was in the hospital. I couldn't have gotten through this without you guys, you're the best!

There's No Place Like Home...

Here we are, just hanging out in the hospital, waiting, again. Here's what's been going on...
Yesterday we got admitted around 12:00, got my IV started (1st try!) and went downstairs for a bit to a memorial service for children who died at the Stollery. Around 5:00 that night, they started the prep for my procedures today. Of course, I always have to do things the hard way so the prep didn't kick in at all until 6 or so this morning, when they gave me some more. Giving me more then was a bad idea though, because then they couldn't do the surgery, so now we're waiting until after lunch when my stomach will be fully empty for them to take me in. It's been really hard on me, just not knowing and having to wait. I'm exhausted and just want to be done and go home. So there were lots of tears last night and this morning. The only thing that makes this whole thing worth while are the amazing letters my friends sent me to read in the hospital. I've read 4 currently, from Jaydon, Tyler, Carissa and Jenna, and cried reading almost every one of them. How blessed am I to have such amazing friends?
So for now we're just waiting. Looks like we'll be spending another night in Edmonton, though, with my surgery time being pushed back.
Like Dorothy said "There's no place like home" and right now home is where I want to be.
Also, my friend's dad is also having surgery back in GP today. Those 2 guys are so amazing, going through that and still finding it in them to pray for me. So today, I'm also lifting them, their dad and their entire family up in prayer. Like I said, it's great to have such amazing friends...

Love You Through It

Seems like the days flew by so quickly from that day when I walked out of the hospital with a surgery day. That date would be Monday.
Today we're leaving for Edmonton, Sunday is awful awful prep day and Monday would be surgery day. (Procedure? Surgery?)
It's not totally real yet, and I don't think it will be until I get there and they get the IV in and everything kind of starts.

Even as I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of death, I will fear no Evil for you are with me... (Psalms 23:4)

My Grace is sufficient for you, my power is made perfect in weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6iyU4S7yHFo

Check out this video. It's become one of my favorites over these past few days. It was made for Breast Cancer Awareness Month, but I really love the chorus and I think it applies to me to. I am so thankful for my amazing support system and the people who love me no matter what, my friends and family. They are all wonderful, and I can't imagine my life without them.
I love you guys!

"They are my people. People keep you going. People are better than...no people "

8136 ~ Worth the Chance

Hey you,
You, the ones who thought I would be better off dead because my designer genes don’t fit with the world’s definition of normal. You, who thought that since my life would be different, it wasn’t worth living. You, who thought this world would be better off without me and my disease, by saving me from the pain that goes along with my life, you would have spared me from making a difference in the life of that one, and that one, and that one, and that one.
If you’d have killed me out of mercy, you’d never have had the chance to find out who I’d become. Maybe I’d find the cure for cancer or AIDS. Maybe I’d find a way to stop world hunger. Maybe I’d be the one to save the life of your mother or father, husband or wife, son or daughter or brother or sister. Maybe I’d change the world, or maybe I’d just change one life.
But then again, if you got your way, you’d never know. Because you didn’t think I was worth the chance.

4981 ~ The Body of Christ

With eyes closed and heads bowed, these people began to surround me in prayer. With strong steady voices, they asked God to give me peace, pleaded with Him to guide the hands of the doctors and to give them wisdom. They begged God to give me strength, and to help me feel His love on these dark, stormy nights.
Surrounded by His body, I felt as though I was being embraced by God. It was almost as if He was telling me He hasn’t left me, even now, and He never will. He gave me people, He gave me love, and, in a way, He gave me a small bit of Himself.

3185 ~ Monsters Under the Bed

Here's a little snippet from what I have so far... Enjoy!

Monday, February 11, 2010
Today I had another ‘session’ with Claire. I was surprised at the joy that filled my tiny heart when I stumbled back into the Lilac room. Claire was waiting for me, donned in another bohemian dress that flowed down around her ankles. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun at the base of her neck with a few stray tendrils dangling around her face.
I flopped down on the couch, rearranging the pillows around myself.
“How are things?” Claire asked, resting her head in her hand,
I proceeded to tell her about Kate and J.T and their upcoming arrival. Claire made appropriate noises, oohing over the happy parts and ahing as I presented the questions that had come to mind.
After we had investigated every nook and cranny of this issue, the tables turned over to the piece I had written last week.
With only the slightest tremble in my voice, I began to read for Claire what I had written. By the time I finished, there were tears in Claire’s eyes.
“It’s ok to be scared of the dark,” She told me.
I remember when I was little, how I used to be scared of the monsters under my bed that appeared in the cover of night. I would beg my dad to come into my room and check under the bed. He would assure me time and time again that there was nothing there before I would finally drift off to sleep, the covers pulled up under my little chin.
Now, I am realizing, there are still monsters under the bed. They might be different monsters, no longer the same ones that lurked in my room as a child. They are the monsters of fear, the unknown, doubt and regret.
They’re not so easy to spot as the ones that hid under my bed once upon a time. These ones lurk in the dark corners of my soul, ready to pounce whenever the opportunity arises.
I have learned that in those long night hours, when sleep won’t come and you’re forced to lie there and think with nothing to distract you or to cause your mind to drift away, that’s when the monsters come out to play.
After all these years, I realized, I’m still scared of the dark. And getting rid of them isn’t as simple as Daddy coming in with the flash light.

1781

Today was my first day of NaNoWriMo. That's my word count, and it's not even noon yet.
Part of me feels accomplished. After slogging my way through the first few pages, the words came easier. I know this is only a small piece of what I hope to accomplish in this month of November, but I can't help but feel happy. This journey is begining, and although the road ahead will be long, I have taken that first step.

Did I tell you what my story is about?
It's the journal of a teenage survivor of chronic illness.