Reflections from the River

All my life I have worked my tail off to make my physical shortcomings not apparent to the rest of the world. I have always hobbled, I have a huge head, and have been in a tremendous amount of pain, but until this year nobody has been aware of the extent of it. Earlier this year my pain became very different than it’s ever been, but to know that others care makes it more bearable. It’s pretty weird having to be open with medical professionals on a regular basis about your pain levels and to rest throughout the day because you’ve stood too much. All that being said, I am thankful to be alive and to have care in the first place. Phenomenal care at that! Most of all I am thankful that in an odd way this physical pain I am in has brought me closer to God than ever before. Thanks be to Him for that!

I have gone without medical care that I desperately needed because of lack of insurance.

I have a heart that beats fasts when I stand in one spot.

I am hydrocephalic.

I have a clotting disorder.

I have rehabbed myself after two brain bleeds.

I have been misdiagnosed by a physician, and the diagnosis changed my adult life.

I have experienced acute trauma and cruelty this year.

I have survived.

I am not unique.

I am a child of a God that has seen fit to save my life through hearing the cries of those that both know and do not know me as they prayed, the real presence in the Eucharist, and The Anointing of the Sick.

I am profoundly blessed.

These are intense statements, and they are truthful ones. They are me.

Stay tuned for further posts as I continue to discern the direction of this blog. I thought a start to the right direction would be some raw honestly from its operator.

Blessings,

Lisa

I often think of what my Daddy would think when things have happened in the world since his death almost 18 years ago. He died young, and when I was almost 18 years old. Daddy was silly, smart, a gentleman, opinionated, hot headed, etc and so forth. He could make you feel like the most important person in the room, and loved my sister and I fiercely. He also loved Jesus and America. My life would have most likely been much different had he lived, but he needed his angel wings and not to be in pain. I stopped wishing to change the will of God long ago where that’s concerned. When I picture him in Heaven, I picture his Hawaiian shirts and him wandering around talking to people. When my grandmother passed away four years ago this January, I haven’t allowed myself to imagine their reunion after so many years apart until this moment, but I know it was one for the Heavenly history books. When I thought I wouldn’t make it on multiple occasions over the last 5ish months, I pictured my reunion with them too. A friend said to me not long ago when I told her the full scope of what has transpired with me medically that It is a miracle I’m alive, and that my work here is just not finished yet. My reunion with my relatives in Heaven by blood and not will wait it seems. When I went to Mass today after a full morning of therapies I thought of what my friend said. I thought of the world in which we live. I thought of the country of my birth. I thought of those I love. I thought of mistakes I have made. I thought of pain and my new normal. I thought of babies born and to be born to my friends and babies lost. I thought of friends I have known through the years. I thought of Mary, Jesus’ mom, since today is a day for her. I thought of killing, the poor, the oppressed, the destitute, violence. I realized sitting there on the front row of my parish home that the person on the crucifix I was staring up at above the tabernacle is the ultimate judge, listener, and protector and to cast it all on him. He wants to hold us up. To return to Him and walk toward Glory to feast at a Heavenly banquet. I think Daddy would cast his cares on Jesus. I think he would sit and ask Him questions in a pew if he weren’t up in Heaven to ask Him face to face. Gods peace and love to you all, blog readers.

May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in thy sight oh Lord my strength and my redeemer. Amen

That came to the forefront of my brain as I wheeled over to my makeshift desk to write this. Perhaps it’s where I get the prayer that I have prayed for years on and off:

God, please help my words, thoughts, and actions to be more like you than myself. Do with me as you will.

Anyway, things are crazy in my country right now. This morning when I woke up I had the idea for this blog post, and amazingly haven’t forgotten it. Even after fully participating at Mass on a rough pain day. To whom do I bow? People, because we are imperfect human beings, have a way of glorifying and bowing at everything but God. I’ve been guilty of that, as we all have the world over. But I can’t help but wonder if we worshipped God with the same vigor, and obeyed his commandments the way we glorify a celebrity or the newest shoe or iPhone how very different the world would be. Vastly different I would imagine.

On this Pentecost Sunday I pray with thanksgiving for the birth of the Church and with hopefulness in my soul for a new Pentecost. That a revival spread through this country, and we always remember who sits on the throne. Most especially that we all may be one. ❤️

In 2008, life got especially real for me, and I ended up in the Chicago area for a time before my first of two brain bleeds. It was there that I met my friend Claude. The circumstances aren’t especially important, but Claude was a dear friend for two weeks before I ended up at Mercy hospital with a blood clot. (Also pre brain bleed #1.)Claude was a drug addict who’d been in and out of jail many times for convictions related to his disease. He, along with about 8 I guess other fellas, took me under their wing and showed me the ropes of Chicago. Claude and I watched Family Guy regularly, and these men shared food with me that they didn’t want during the week when a woman cooked that didn’t seem to care what she fed us. Particularly me who ate really strangely. 💁🏼‍♀️ I have never had such unseasoned food in the entirety of my life. Or as many veggie trays….They pulled out my chair and woke me for meals, and we shared lots of books. Anyway, back to Claude….I have thought of him often through the years. But today he’s been on my mind. I wonder if he’s alive. I wonder if he’s spent more time inside. I wonder if he kicked heroin to the curb forever. I’ll never know the answers to these statements. I hope God has blessed each of those gentleman in their lives for being kind to 2008 Lisa as she got her first taste of the real world, and because they’re His and they wanted to change.

Looking back on 2008, it seems like a different world. And it was compared to this one. I look forward to the day, whether it be in this life or the next, when Gods children love each other and recognize that we are equal. We could all stand to be more like Claude in the United States and around the world.

It seems like a lifetime ago now, but I once knew a soldier who wore a bracelet with his friends name engraved on it that was killed during one of his tours overseas. I’ve been lost in thought today over this holiday, that fallen soldier, and all of the others that this country has lost through the years.

Many folks don’t know this, but my BA is in Political Science with a concentration in American Government. Until recently, I have always had a fascination with politics. But the very fabric of this country, I have learned, goes FAR beyond the halls of government. It’s in its citizens, and those who wish that were. The very bravest of whom are in the military. I have a dear friend whose husband is in the service. She posted something on social media that was so eloquent, and thus so very her. 🙂To sum it up, it is that we all should have a grateful Memorial Day. I am grateful for the sacrifices of those that wear the uniform. May all of us make every day a Memorial Day for the sacrifices of those individuals and their families. ❤️

The inner workings of my heart and brain are mighty strange. My entire body actually…..it kind of floats to its own drummer. When I was a baby my neurosurgeon called me a tough case. Makes sense. 🤷🏼‍♀️ But somehow Boggs (with the help of the big guy upstairs) made this shunt work and its continued to keep chugging along. Perhaps it always will. I can remember when he did my college physical before I left for South Bend if I think hard enough. When life turned upside down for me in the Fall, I couldn’t have imagined I’d end up living in Florida. I’d accepted a life of making do. Quietly living my faith, having weird interactions with folks asking me about Catholicism (or telling me how wrong and backwards it is), never having a life with purpose, and never having healthcare. But, God is weird, and He kept me alive through the Sacraments and a sheer force of will on my part. Two anointings of the sick, a month of various types of therapies, daily Mass, prayers of others lifted up, and relearning everything I’ve ever known bit by bit each day later I’m improving. Life and God are weird. Wonderful to be sure…but mighty weird. I’m so glad I’m loved by Him. ❤️

As I lay here listening to John Mayer sing softly in the background and resting, the pain in my body is at a level that is hard to deal with. Over the years I’ve gotten good at dealing with physical pain. I’ve just kept moving. But now it’s not so simple. A google search led me to Psalm 6:2. If you’re in pain out there, blog readers, read this verse. May it touch you, too. ❤️🙏🏻

There are few absolutes in life; not Earthly ones anyway. God fully present in the Eucharist-that’s one absolute. It has been a month and sixteen days since I’ve received Communion. To experience a Sacramental separation from God has been profound. It’ll be weird tomorrow, going to Mass with a mask on. Who cares though? Normal is overrated. 🙂

Becoming Catholic in 2010 will always be the greatest decision of my life. People often tell me I’m brave or some exceptional person. That it’s a miracle I’ve survived all these months and years. Not really. The big guy is in the miracle business. I’m not sure what caused me to get so ill last December. Maybe it was my shunt, multiple cases of the flu, Covid 19, or all of the above. Things have certainly gotten harder and then way harder before they’ve gotten better. Who knows? But Daily Mass, prayer, and a whole lot of scrappiness have given me a second chance to, as Lindsey the speech therapist said, “allow myself to dream big.” What a concept. ❤️

Today I have been thinking a lot about Jesus’ mom, Mary. If ever there was a straight up servant of God, the ultimate example of femininity, sacrifice, and fierce love for a child it was and is the Virgin Mary. Years ago, I went to the Notre Dame bookstore daily and read every single book by Catholic theologian Scott Hahn. There was a big comfy chair next to his books, and it’d stick something in whatever book of his I was reading to mark my place. 😂 It was great! His book on Mary was beautiful and taught me so much about all the misconceptions folks have about Catholics and Mary. I picked up a rosary soon after, and taught myself how to pray it. My Daddy was known to hang large wooden rosaries around my sister and I when we were little, so I guess it was fitting that The Holy Mother and I be reconnected. 😂

Happiest of Mothers Days to all the Moms reading this, and to the Virgin Mary. ❤️ That waft of roses I got through a mask the other day at Assumption when none were near was a beautiful surprise. I’ve missed our relationship, too.