What Living Could Be Like

I wasn't planning this, but I became the admin of a faith based mitochondrial disease FB group about two weeks ago. So I compose thoughts while drinking coffee, hoping to encourage myself and maybe others. The challenge stirs thoughts I might otherwise ignore. The words come from a different place so for now, I'll divert from my typical blog posts and share some of them here.

And if you're interested in joining the group, you can find it here: Walking by Faith with Mitochondrial Disease.

May 24th:

Today I'm enjoying day old coffee because it was easy to fix. I'm sitting on our wrap around porch (with leftover pollen) while a cool breeze blows. After a frenzied three weeks, there is calm. And I'm soaking in the moment when all feels right with the world.

In contrast, I cried real tears twice this week. Once due to fear when severe instability and pain altered my gait and the other when an old relational wound resurfaced. Waves of anxiety washed over me and I wept. And knew I needed rest.

The day my ankle popped last week, I spent the morning thinking about what it would be like if I could live with more faith than fear. Peaceful mornings remind me everything's OK. He's got it under control. But then the ankle pops and anxiety builds and I struggle to keep overwhelm from gripping my soul.

Which is why we need community, why I value a place to write, and why I’m thankful for a pastor who called and prayed for me the day I couldn't quite get my spiritual breath.

Still I wonder, as I dwell in His presence today, what living would be like if I could train my heart to bank on the fact the trees are just bushes to God; my mountains mere molehills from His vantage point; and my limitations simply an opportunity for Him to show His power.

For, "Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint." (Is. 40: 28-31)