Hidden Treasures

"I will give you hidden treasures, riches stored in secret places, so that you may know that I am the LORD, the God of Israel, who summons you by name." ~Isaiah 45:3~

Today I am not going to focus on illness because, honestly, it gets so tiresome to have to go through so much and then to talk about it causes me to grow even more weary. Besides, I am not my disease. I have other interests in my life and while awareness is extremely important, sometimes you have to take a break from the burden of it all and talk about something else. So today I want to share an experience with you that I had this morning that was profoundly moving to me.

I. love. jewelry. There it is...it's out there. But truth be told, don't most women? I even have three holes in each ear just so I can wear lovely earrings to make my diminutive ears and non-existent earlobes look like they are actually there! I also take care of the jewelry that I have, with some pieces dating back 45 - 50 years. As my 63rd birthday approaches in a couple of weeks (shhhh...don't tell anyone I'm that old!), I am reminded of the lovely little earrings my parents gave me for my 18th birthday. I have no idea whether or not they are valuable...they are just simple, gold studs set with little green stones...but they definitely are a treasure to me because my parents gave them to me. And I have been wearing them, carrying them with me on every move and every trip I have ever made, off and on for 45 years. I put in studs and leave them in my ears, even when going to bed; and I had done that when I arose yesterday to get ready for my weekly IVIG treatment for Myasthenia Gravis, Lupus and Common Variable Immune Deficiency. I didn't feel well from the get-go, but I took a shower and washed my hair anyway. I never even thought about taking the studs out of my ears because, frankly, I have been wearing them so long, I don't notice they are even there...they are like a part of my anatomy!

Well, my hair is long and I wrapped it in a towel to get the excess water out, then proceeded to dry my hair as much as my weakened muscles would permit. I finally gave up on that project and decided to just let my hair dry naturally. *I know this is getting long, but please keep reading...I have a point to all this rambling, I promise!!

Just before the nurse arrived, I saw the back of an earring on the floor mat in the bathroom. My hands quickly reached up to my ears, and to my dismay, I discovered that one of my studs was missing...yes, one of the treasured studs my parents gave me so long ago! I asked Gary to help me look for it, but we ran out of time upon the nurse's arrival, and with the day's treatment and resulting ill effects from it, my poor little green stud was temporarily forgotten.

But you know how the Bible says that God gives us mercies afresh and anew every morning? It's true, and I awakened this morning at about 4:00 a.m. and couldn't sleep. The best thing for me in that situation is to spend time in prayer, get out my Bible and begin to read, asking God to show me a truth that I need for that day. As I was reading scripture, God clearly reminded me of His power and love. In Daniel 20:22, the Bible says this about God:

"It is He who reveals the profound and hidden things; He knows what is in the darkness and the light dwells in Him." [italics mine]

While that is a scripture I am familiar with, it suddenly became "Remah" to me...a direct, spoken message  to me, coming alive in my heart...and though I wasn't quite sure what God was going to reveal, I knew that this particular message from scripture was spoken to me.

A little while ago, I went to grab the dark brown floor mats and toilet lid cover to throw in the washing machine, and as I was about to remove the lid cover, something caught the light and shimmered in the dark fabric of the lid cover. As I ran my hand across it, I found my precious stud! God knew that even this tiny stud...inconsequential, really, in the whole scheme of the vastness of all things entrusted to His care...was important to me! And He loves me enough to reveal what was hidden in the darkness. It was something I had searched for, but could not find. I don't know about you, but I find that amazing.

I have learned that just when I am feeling small...invisible and invalidated, especially with all things medically related...and begin to worry about all the big stuff happening in my life, God reaches down and whispers, "I'm here, my daughter, I love you." He reminds me through His Word that He hears our cries and answers prayers. When our feet are sinking in miry clay and we feel like we are being sucked under by the weight of it all, He draws us up, sets our feet on solid ground and puts a new song in our mouths (Psalm 40:1). He gives me breath when I have thought I had no more, and walks with me in the darkness until He completes His purpose in me. And I will trust Him to do just that, even when things don't seem to be going my way. As the Martina McBride song says,

"God is great, but sometimes life ain't good. And when I pray, it doesn't always turn out like I think it should--but I do it anyway!"

Because you know what? We are more important than anything to God...we were created in His very image, to have fellowship and communion with Him.

So I will hang on to His promises, which are all true, and I will thank Him for the 63 years He has given me to know Him and to love Him. And on that note, I leave you with this thought:

I am determined to be invincible 'til He has finished His purpose in me! And nothing shall shake me, for He'll never forsake me! I am determined to live for the King!            ~"I am Determined" by Tim Shepherd~

God bless you, I love you...
Kathie Lea

 

Updates and Milestones...Concern and Celebration

The past month has been a busy one for me, with visits to several doctors multiple times. It has been exhausting and perplexing, painful and difficult. But it has also been a time of reflection and peace in the midst of chaos because through it all, I recognize how truly blessed I am. I had some diagnoses added to my list, one or two of no real consequence other than pain, added medication and inconvenience, and one that I must do something about soon. I finally got my reports from the testing done by the Pulmonologist, and I have combination/mixed Obstructive and Restrictive Lung Disease. I am praying that I am approved for a BiPAP machine which will help with my labored breathing and decreased oxygen saturation. I already fulfill the criteria required for insurance coverage, but am still scheduled for a titration sleep study on August 2nd. What I am praying for is a BiPAP machine that will not have a fixed setting, but allow me the freedom to set it for what I need as I need it...whether asleep or awake...so that I can avoid ER trips and intubations. Too many Myasthenia Gravis patients die due to respiratory failure from weak chest wall muscles and/or diaphragm failure because they don't get proper ventilation in time. Having a BiPAP will provide me with noninvasive ventilation when signs of impending crisis are evident before the actual crisis occurs. This will be a HUGE aid in my fight against MG, a vital addition to my arsenal of tools going forward.

I reached a milestone this week, one that I wasn't sure I would attain when I first started this journey. There is much unknown about Myasthenia Gravis, but one thing that is proving helpful to me considering my treatment limitations is IV Immunoglobulin (IVIG) therapy. I posted an update on Facebook the other day, but for those of you who support, pray for, and encourage me day after day, week after week, who do not have Facebook accounts, I am writing this for you...

"200". Three little numbers (two of which are zeros, generally referred to as "nil" and often viewed as nothing but place holders) that, when put together, have great meaning...especially to people like me. "Really?", you ask..."It looks like an inconsequential number to me. What significance could that number possibly hold?" Good question! Let me help you understand what the number "200" represents for me:

• Two years of driving over 600 miles round trip to an infusion clinic in Houston a minimum of every two weeks
• 3 1/2 years of weekly nursing care in my home 
• 8-10 amazing nurses
• Multiple needle sticks, collapsed veins and surgical placement of a port in my chest
• Three different home health care companies
• SIX different brands of IV Immunoglobulins (IVIG)
• One good pharmacy and one specialty pharmacy that exemplifies excellence
• A Patient Advocate that works tirelessly to help patients like me receive treatment they need
• Roughly $1.5 million in costs for these treatments alone
• Hundreds of thousands of DONORS who gave the gift of life through their plasma donations

Most of all, "200" represents LIFE...another year, another week, another day...to love my husband, my family, my friends; to worship my God--Jehovah Jireh (God, Who provides), Jehovah Rapha (God, Who heals). Yes, it is true. This past Tuesday, July 17, 2018, I reached another milestone in my IVIG therapy. Tuesday was my 200th treatment. I am still here, and I am blessed. To be sure, "200" is looking pretty awesome to me!

"Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through Whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we boast in the HOPE of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope." ~Romans 5:1-4~

Thank you once again for your loving support. It means more to me than I can express.
God bless you, I love you...
Kathie Lea

 

 

Myasthenia Gravis Has a Face, And it Just Might Look Familiar

As we close out Myasthenia Gravis Awareness Month, I find myself regretting my failure to really promote education about this difficult disease. But the truth is that it is because I have this condition that my physical strength is gone and I find very little reserve with which to work on things like writing blog entries and creating photo collages, memes, and informative Facebook posts that tell my story. You see, Myasthenia Gravis is no respecter of persons in that it randomly strikes at will, regardless of age, gender or race. In my mind, it is a beast which seemingly has a life and personality, with a desire to destroy any and all in its path. In spite of the nature of this illness, with its ultimate destruction at the nerve junction that prevents the message relay from the brain to the muscle which results in devastating and debilitating muscle weakness, it still affects each individual uniquely. It is why we are known in the MG community as snowflakes...no two of us are alike. While it is considered rare, the fight for a cure and research is ongoing, so there is HOPE on the horizon. But as my experience over the past few weeks reveals, there is still not enough knowledge, even among medical professionals.

Over the past month, I have seen just about every "ologist" there is--each referring me to another because whatever is going on is out of the realm of their specialty/expertise. From Rheumatology to Pulmonology, Endocrinology, Radiology, Hematology, Nephrology and Gastroenterology to a Sleep Clinic--I have seen them all. And almost without exception, I am confronted with faces devoid of expression or perhaps even the proverbial "deer in the headlights" look that comes with lack of knowledge about Myasthenia Gravis the moment the words pass my lips. And every single doctor has asked me why I see a neurologist in Houston. Well, when you find the best, you don't change anything. You travel over 300 miles anytime you need her unexpectedly, and for your frequent appointments because--frankly--she "gets it". She knows her stuff. She's not forgotten why she has chosen a lifetime of caring for her patients, nor her oath to "first do no harm". For years, she has been the only doctor to actually perform a physical and neurological assessment at every single office visit. Nope, I will never leave her because, simply put, she's nothing short of amazing. And in the almost 6 years since I have been seeing her, she has never once disappointed me in the quality of her care.

Thankfully, I am slowly but surely finding healthcare providers in my area who are doing more than just typing information into a computer. The 4 new doctors I have seen in the past two weeks have not even had their computers with them...they looked me in the eyes, talked with me, even examined me. I was so amazed that I thanked each and every one of them for caring enough to actually pay attention. I do think that sometimes we forget that as overwhelmed as we are with our conditions, the physicians that oversee our care are just as overwhelmed and just as tired. They are overworked and buried under a load of paperwork and federal regulations that require time away from the reasons they got into medicine in the first place. On the other hand, the lack of knowledge and awareness of diseases like Myasthenia Gravis is staggering. So it is left to us...the patients...to rally the strength to advocate for ourselves and educate others.

The bottom line is this: Myasthenia Gravis is a reality with which roughly 20 in 100,000 people in America struggle, making it a rare disorder. Consider what that means...perhaps not much to the 99,980 people for whom there is freedom from pain, weakness, a fight for each and every breath. But for those of us bowled over by the ravages of this disease, it means a lot. It means multiple doctors, nurses, home health care, monthly or weekly IV or plasmapheresis treatments, daily medications, machines to help us breathe, ports surgically implanted in our bodies, ventilators, wheelchairs, walkers, multiple hospitalizations, catastrophic medical expenses, and worry. Most of all, Myasthenia Gravis has a face. And more than likely, it could be the face of someone you know and love.

For more information, please visit www.myasthenia.org.

God bless you, I love you...
Kathie Lea

"The Lord will command His lovingkindness in the daytime; and His song will be with me in the night, a prayer to the God of my life." ~Psalms 42: 8~

Looking for My 'Normal', Finding Something Better

"Ah Lord God! behold, thou has made the heaven and the earth by thy great power and stretched out arm, and there is nothing too hard for thee..." ~Jeremiah 32: 17~

This has been one of the most difficult couple of weeks I've had in a long time. Like a boat washed aground by stormy seas, illnesses resulting in a couple of family members' hospitalizations, my own health concerns, and visits to specialists have filled my time, my thoughts, and have wreaked havoc with my emotions. Add to that the concern over a shortage in supply of my life-sustaining IV Immunoglobulins (IVIG), and we have a potential recipe for a total emotional meltdown. And believe me, that is not a pretty thing; I just want to cry, shouting, "Hey...my 'normal' has been stolen, right out from under me!" And maybe even stomp my foot for added effect! Because stress impacts me negatively health-wise, I have felt absolutely awful pretty much 24/7 for more than two full weeks. 

I saw a new rheumatologist and my neurologist three weeks ago, and at the insistence of my neurologist, must add a new specialist to my ever growing list of doctors--a pulmonologist. While I am not looking forward to more tests, I find some comfort in the idea that I will finally get some things taken care of and, hopefully, under control. So much about my journey is baffling to me; to be perfectly honest, I find myself wanting to just push things aside so I don't have to cope with any of it anymore. But I know a young mother who has a daughter with multiple health conditions, and she faces the unknown on a daily basis. Every time I have a new symptom or no one seems to know what to do to make my situation better, I think of her. Her daughter was accepted into and is participating in a program in Houston where doctors search for answers to health issues for which there is no cure...not even a name, for that matter. I think of her and pray for her often, realizing that each and every known disease was once an unknown. Someone suffered unusual symptoms, and dedicated doctors worked tirelessly to find answers in an effort to help their patients. When I experience an unusual symptom, question one or more of my many specialists about it, and they shrug their shoulders with no answer, I consider that sweet child whose parents are doing everything they can to find answers--even though the answers they seek may not come quickly. Somehow that brings me a bit of peace and I don't doubt the healthcare system (for the most part) or my own sanity quite so much. Why? Because I know that answers will come!

Since my family has been going through a bit of a crisis, I contacted the pastor of a church nearby that we have visited a couple of times, and asked for prayer. I have to admit that it is very difficult for me to ask for help for myself beyond the realm of prayer, which comes easy for me because prayer is such an integral part of my life. But to ask for physical help? That is much harder for me!  So you can imagine my discomfort when his immediate response was to assure me that not only would the church pray, but that they would put ACTION to their prayers...and then he asked me what physical needs they could work to meet. The thing is, the Bible says very clearly that we are to bear one another's burdens and help one another when one of us is in need. And it's a two way street; so that means that I'm supposed to let someone know what my needs are when they specifically ask me. Keeping that in mind, I swallowed my pride and told the pastor just what our needs are. I have to tell you that since that first request for prayer, sweet members of that church have visited me, brought food on my worst day of the week (infusion day), have cleaned my house, sent a card and messages of encouragement, and are signing up to take turns to help out and provide anything we need. At a time in my life when I have felt alone and isolated, this blessing has covered my soul with a healing balm that is renewing my spirit and giving me strength to face whatever the difficult days ahead bring my way.

Please keep me and my family in your prayers. I know, because the Bible tells me, that there is not a word on my tongue without God knowing it already. (Psalm 139:4) He teaches me to trust Him with all my heart (Proverbs 3:5-6), and promises that as I seek His face, I will find Him if I search with all my heart. (Jeremiah 29:13). Thank you for your support, your encouragement, and your grace. I'm not going to waste time looking for my 'normal' anymore. I've found something much better, especially in times of crisis...the peace that comes with the promises of God, and the beauty in the hands of those who serve Him.



God bless you, I love you....
Kathie Lea

Wendy, Wonderstruck and Living Loved

“Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.”

~Romans 12:12~

I had a friend once…someone I had never met in person, but to whom I owe a debt of gratitude I can never repay. Her name was Wendy, and because she was unable to get the proper care she needed for her medical conditions (of which there were many, including Myasthenia Gravis), she passed away last year in February. I’ve been thinking about her a lot lately. She was a member of my online Myasthenia Gravis support group, and she was always available to answer questions, no matter how many times someone asked. I have written about her before, but I wanted to honor her again today because she is the example I hold close to my heart as to how a chronically ill “warrior” should be…helpful, honest, compassionate, a keeper of the keys to a wealth of information, with a generous heart to share it all if it would bring awareness and aid, without a morsel of impatience. Wendy made a difference in countless people’s lives, and this entry is dedicated to her because, frankly, I want to be someone’s ‘Wendy’. In spite of weakness and pain, despite being homebound and unable to get out, I want to encourage, to uplift, to advocate and educate. I want to make a difference. Every time I write in this blog, I pray that the words I put forth are words that are meaningful and helpful…and hopefully, coherent! ;-)

I don’t really have any special updates about my conditions (though I have seen multiple doctors over the past few weeks), but I do have a couple of things I’d like to share about how God is moving in my life. I have shared before about how lonely it gets when a person is homebound, constantly fighting chronic illness and never knowing when things will unexpectedly turn south. Sometimes, the days meld together and none of them seems good. Add to that the fact that my husband has been working away from home, and…well…I’m sure you can imagine how difficult and lonely the days can be. 

"Wonderstruck"

Photo Credit: Garlan Blundell

A couple of months ago, some friends of mine devoted their time and efforts to bringing a ladies’ retreat and Bible study to me. One afternoon, while reminiscing of days long past when I was able to participate in ladies’ ministries, I made a simple comment to one of my friends that I would love to go on a retreat. She spoke with a couple of others, and these precious friends put the wheels in motion (literally); before I knew it, they had come to me…and I’m not talking about coming from down the street; I mean from one part of the state to another! I cannot express how deeply this kind and loving gesture touched me. I was truly humbled and blessed. The name of the study was “Wonderstruck” by Margaret Feinberg, and that is exactly how I felt…wonderstruck, astounded at the absolute assurance of God’s power and love, amazed that these women would reach out to me in such a way. In spite of weakness and fatigue…even a subsequent setback in my health status…the joy I felt during the entire experience was like a spring bubbling up its life-giving water within a tormented heart that had spent day after day as dry and lonely as miles and miles of desert sands. I continue to be wonderstruck on a daily basis as I see God’s handiwork alive in me. 

My neighbor told my husband recently that she understands that I have many bad days, but she wanted to actively pursue getting together with me as I felt up to it. Ah, yet another “wonderstruck” moment in my life, and a specific answer to prayer for companionship, friendship, and Christian fellowship. She came over one morning, and before we knew it, 2 hours had passed and I knew we would be good…no, great…friends. We talked about all kinds of things…even touched on loneliness and isolation; I had the opportunity to share my experiences with chronic illness with her, and how God has worked in my life through it all. She asked if I would be interested in joining a Bible study if she and her friend could put it together. In fact, she asked if it would it be easier for me to have them come to me and have the study in my home! Once again, amazement filled my very soul, and I said yes! Within minutes, she had contacted her friend who would actually lead the study, dropped off the book, and we planned for our 6 week study to begin that very next Friday. When I started to read the first chapters of the book entitled “Uninvited” by Lysa Terkeurst, I began to weep. It was exactly what I needed that day, what I need today, and I feel certain will be exactly what I need over the next 6 weeks. 

"So we can say with confidence,

'The Lord is my helper, so 

I will have no fear...'

Through these studies and by delving into the very Word of God, I am rediscovering how valuable I am to Him. I am not cast aside as a worthless, broken shard; I am complete in Him…a vessel He can mold and shape into something beautiful and useful for His purpose. I have felt rejected by people many times, as have most of us. But do you know what? I am discovering that you and I can make a choice. Just as HOPE is a choice, we can choose to recognize that we are LOVED! No illness, no circumstance, no mistake or wrong turn can change the fact that God loves us and has from the foundation of the world. 

God bless you, I love you…

Kathie Lea

“Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly in all wisdom; teaching and admonishing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with grace in your hearts to the Lord.” ~Colossians 3:16~

Honoring Parents -- What I Have Learned

Dear family and friends,

Today I read a beautifully written, well-thought-out blog post entitled “What I’ll Say to My Children if I’m Diagnosed with Alzheimer’s” . Perhaps it is because I am recovering from a particularly bad infection and am, frankly, a bit emotional since I am physically and mentally drained. But as I read, I made a purposeful decision to write this open letter – not just to my children – but to anyone who is experiencing a downward shift in the mental or physical health of one or both of their parents, with the hope that it will help during the most difficult days you face ahead. I have written often about the multiple conditions that already make activities of daily life terribly difficult for me, and I have a somewhat increased risk of developing Alzheimer’s due to a mutation in the APOE gene. So it is important to me that my children and loved ones know that they have permission to do what is necessary and best for me (and them) regarding skilled nursing care should the need arise…and they may do so without feeling any guilt or inadequacy.

Photo Credit: Keith Varnado

I know first-hand how Alzheimer’s Disease ravages the mind because my father had it; I learned much about this terrible disorder as I watched my daddy retreat into the shadows of fear, dismay, confusion, bewilderment and disorientation as his disease progressed. When the time came to choose a facility for him because he needed ‘round the clock medical care, my mom and I visited multiple nursing homes. We left almost all of them, our hearts broken and tears streaming down our faces, because the conditions were deplorable. How could we possibly leave my beloved daddy in such a place? Not one of them was acceptable. But we persevered, having armed ourselves with prayer, knowing that God cared about our needs and heard our cries. We finally found a lovely, brand new facility, right across the highway from my home; we were at peace that we had, in fact, found the best place for Daddy’s care.

It was a tremendous relief to be able to spend time with him daily, and it was because I interacted with him consistently that I finally (sort of) adjusted to the role of “parent-daughter” rather than just “daughter”. I took an active role in making sure his clothes were laundered, that he ate correctly, and I attended the Plan of Care meetings as much as possible. My sweet husband, Gary, took on the task of keeping Daddy’s beard trimmed, and Daddy would relax so completely that he would fall asleep every time. 

The memories forged during the last 6 months of my daddy’s life are dear to me…cherished treasures for which I am eternally grateful. And it is because of those precious moments that I gleaned some nuggets of truth that I am prayerfully passing on to you:

• Love, honor and respect your parents, especially as they age and their health – both mental and physical – declines
• Please don’t argue, regardless of whether or not what they say is factual or even makes sense; their perception is their reality, after all
• Visit often. Daddy used to wait for me in the lobby of the nursing home; he might be confused, even disoriented, but somehow he knew to expect me every single day. More often than not, he had concerns that he couldn’t wait to share with me…bewilderment and fears based on his reality. All I had to do was listen and hold his hand; it was amazing what a calming effect that had, easing the burden of his distress
• If your parent makes a reasonable request, be sure to oblige. I remember one evening when there was a band playing country music for the residents, and Daddy was so excited that Gary and I were there to hear them. It was a night when he was unexpectedly clear of mind. I had never known my father to dance…I didn’t know he liked it at all, although I knew he loved music. He remembered, though, that Gary and I loved to dance, and had recently even owned our own dance studio. So when the music began to play, he asked us to get out on the floor and dance. We didn’t have the “proper” shoes, so we told him “no, we’ll do it another time”. But there never was another time, and he died shortly thereafter. It is one of my greatest regrets because it didn’t matter that we didn’t have our dance shoes on…all he wanted was to see us dance. Though he tried to hide it well, I still remember the flash of disappointment in his eyes and it makes me sad to this day.
• Pray for your parents, then put action to your prayers. If they enjoy music, bring CD’s and a player so they can listen to their favorite artists. Make a photo album and go through the pages together often. Surround them with pictures of family and encourage your little ones to make artwork for them to enjoy. Bring them their favorite foods or treats. Most of all…LOVE them. 

Photo Credit: Keith Varnado

“Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the Lord your God is giving you.” ~Exodus 20:12~

God bless you, I love you…

Kathie Lea

The Dream...

"For God speaks again and again, though people do not recognize it.
He speaks in dreams, in visions of the night,
when deep sleep falls upon people as they lie in their beds."
(Job 33:14-15)

Last night I had the strangest dream, one I will probably not forget any time soon - a dream just as haunting and real upon awakening as it was at the dreaming of it. Because of its intensity, I am writing about it now...praying earnestly, questioning and seeking answers. Do dreams have a physical basis, are we sorting out mental stresses, a little of both, or nothing at all? Needless to say, this affected me enough to want to share with you!

In my dream, I was lying in bed, my entire body completely overcome by the pulling, to and fro, of what I can only describe as heavy weights. I was scarcely able to move, and felt as if I were drowning beneath wave after wave of unrelenting, crushing water. The phone rang, and somehow, though I was practically paralyzed, I found myself hearing the voice of a friend of mine who demanded to know how I could have possibly forgotten her birthday and when I was going to host a party on her behalf! Knowing she felt rebuffed, I tried desperately to speak, to make my voice heard, to rise above the agony of the crushing weight pinning me down, to encourage her and assure her that I did, indeed, care. I remember struggling to will myself out of the bed, with the task of arranging for her birthday celebration foremost in my mind. After all, I had allowed her birthday to come and go without acknowledgment, and I was dismayed.

Suddenly, all manner of people...many of whom I did not know or recognize...began walking through the doors of my home. They were laughing, talking, enjoying themselves at a table full of finger foods, drinks and desserts. With great effort, even crawling on my hands and knees through what felt like quick sand, I finally made my way into the main room, and happened to see a friend of mine I have known since early childhood. She took me by the hand, and as we made our way through the throngs of people who paid no attention to anything outside the food and drink, she led me back to my bed. As I passed by a mirror hanging on the wall in the hallway, I saw my reflection, which so startled me, I began to cry. I looked like death...gaunt, pale, with dark, sunken orbs where once my eyes full of light, life and love had been. All the while, my friend led me on, encouraging me, speaking positive words over me, telling me God has not completed His work in me; she told me to rest, despite what others think of or expect of me. I awoke suddenly, feeling weighted down as in my dream, exhausted and weak.

So now I am wondering what I am to learn from this experience? Anything? Nothing? Does God still speak in dreams or am I subconsciously trying to reconcile myself to the limitations I face on a daily basis? Or could it be that in my sleep, which is often fragmented by weakness in my respiratory muscles due to Myasthenia Gravis, my loving God once again breathed life anew, assuring me through my dream that though I am weak, He is strong and will continue to work in me until that work is complete? I don't know, but I am grateful for the experience (as unsettling as it was), and I cry out as did the prophet of old, when called upon by God..."Here am I, Lord!"

God bless you, I love you...
Kathie Lea