20 seconds.

"Life only requires 20 seconds of insane courage." This quote/paraphrase came from a movie, We Bought a Zoo, I watched this past weekend. These simple words have become the lens I look through when I view life these past few days.
If I had insane courage for 20 seconds, how would my life look different?
Honestly, that scares me. And that tells me I am a wuss. I am comfortable. I have a roof over my head. Food in the cupboard. Clothes in the closet. Shamefully, a bit too many, compliments of Goodwill and friends who pass on their hand me downs. Money to pay the bills. Paycheck to paycheck. I am employed that provides insurance. I own an accessible van that enables me to get from point A to point B in my power chair. A wonderful service dog by my side 24/7 to offer assistance with the challenges of this disability. I am able to enjoy my retired service dog after she worked faithfully for 10 years. My family is close by and very supportive. All of them. I live in an extremely happy town. People are friendly.
Seriously, what is my problem?
I read this list and wonder why I feel like I am taking up space in this world. I am disheartened by my inability to make a difference in this life. My drive for comfort and not courage. It's sickening. Sad. Lonely. And certainly depressing.
"Life only requires 20 seconds of insane courage."
In 20 seconds my life could be very different.

This photo screams courage and the fight for a cure for FA.

 I can't give up.

the end.

My friend, Heather, shared a daily devotion that I could receive through email. Some days I am not in the mood to open the email or the subject of the devotion is such that I don't think it applies to me. How egotistical is that? Today's email had the subject of Desperate Enough. Yep, that's me. I am desperate. Desperate for some kind of change. Desperate for healing. Desperate for a husband. Desperate for motivation. Desperate for warmer weather. Desperate for a family.Desperate for my new service dog to be eager to please me. Desperate for affection. Desperate for affirmation.Desperate for the Bachelorette to start. Okay, I'm getting carried away. But, I am Desperate. For Something. Need less to say, this subject interested me. It seems I am desperate enough.
Although the author of this devotion used an example from parenting and her challenges with that, I forged on desperate for some encouragement.
I am so glad I did. Here's what I read when I experienced that "ah-ha" moment:
"Desperation causes people to do different things. Some people make wrong choices, believing their backs are against a wall. Some people go into hiding, hoping a problem will go away.
Yet others are desperate enough to do something risky and full of humility to get help. Sometimes God uses other people to help us, and sometimes He is the only One who has the answers.
In the difficult times we face, many of us have problems that push us to the point of desperation. It is my prayer that instead of desperation defeating you, it motivates you to seek help. Whether God Himself provides your deliverance, or He uses someone else, trust He already has a plan to help."
The bold emphasis is mine.
I should have typed I am desperate for God.
the end.
And I will trust He already has a plan to help.

Me and Barkley at team training 10-12

fact or fiction.

It is a known fact that dogs take on the personality/characteristics of their owners. If you have known me long enough, it is quite comical thinking of my pet dog "tri-pod". And yes, he came by his name honestly. Leave it to me to have a disabled dog. I still love you, Phoenix.

However, focusing on my two service dogs and how entirely different they are, this fact confuses me. Delsie is intense. Barkley is laid back. Both to a fault. Delsie HATES the vacuum.. She will not be in the same room when I haul it out. Barkley could care less about the loud thing. He won't move when it comes near him. That explains the dog outline on my carpet. Delsie is not a cuddlier. She will tolerate my hugs and kisses. Barkley is a complete lover. He lays on my face. For real. He can't get close enough. Delsie is rather independent. She loves people. Barkley is a dog dog. His goofiness comes out when he is playing with other dogs. It has been a riot discovering these differences. They are complete opposites. What does this say about me?
The other day I was going for a walk with Barkley. He literally froze in his tracks when we passed this statue of Jesus.

I am intrigued by Him, too, Barkley.

For some reason, I have been a bit anxious when I think of living like this 40 more years. I can't do it. Or better said, I don't want to do it. I am different on how I handle this challenge each day that passes. One day, my optimism surprises even me and I am not even phased by this disability. Other days, I am consumed and utterly overwhelmed by the gloom this diagnosis brings to my life. And there are days although few and far between, that I don't give FA a second of my thoughts or worries and I feel relief or free. So yea, I also detect differences in the way I approach life. I am sure that I can emulate a bit of Delsie and Barkley personality. Did I just compare myself to dogs? Oh boy. The morning that I verbalized my angst against FA through tears, a press release came out for a clinical study in Italy. http://curefa.org/_pdf/PressRelease03-15-12.pdf

You can return any day Jesus.
In the mean time, bless those who are fighting for a treatment or cure for FA.

until then...

Seriously, where does the time go? I have no legitimate reason for not posting. I would only be making excuses. But this week I have been challenged to take some intense inventory as I was scheduled to speak Wednesday for the youth group and then again this morning. Nothing like being held accountable for what I believe.
It is clear that I am a huge procrastinator or struggling with the winter blahs. Honestly, I think it's both. Procrastination and the blahs- not a good equation to offer teens hope in this crazy world. But I did it. I hope. No pun intended.
On Wednesday, the topic was belonging. Having this disability presents some challenges when I want to feel like I belong. I don't want my life to entail all things disabled. Yet I don't truly fit in an able world. A tricky fate, for sure. And one that I thought I would never be up against. The truth is that I am disabled. So this morning I focused on James 1:2- "consider it pure joy, my brothers, when you face trials of many kinds..."
FA is a trial while I navigate this life. I don't want it to define me, however. I long to count it joy. It may seem unrealistic when I hit my face AGAIN on a tile floor. At that moment, besides the urge to throw up from the concussion, I have a choice to figure out the joy in that situation. Faith not feelings. Faith not feelings. Faith not feelings...
The purple has faded and the bruising is gone.

The heart will always ache. Ache for a cure. Until then, I consider it pure joy to be surrounded by two amazing dogs, encouraging friends and an incredible family.
Until then...Delsie seems to be enjoying her retirement and Barkley feels as if he has always been a part of me.

2012, let's begin.

It's the first day of 2012. There is something about the new year that sounds enticing. The possibilities seem endless. Life appears approachable. I feel a little more courageous to face what is ahead. I welcome change instead of run from it. I long to be closer to the One who created me...it all equals HOPE.

...and then FA enters the picture. Shamefully, 2012 quickly loses its appeal. I am consumed by its uncertainty. Fear muffles any form of courage I muster and change means progression of this stupid disability. I shy away from Him. The One who is everything. The Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end.

Last night I was surrounded by friends who allow me to be me and more importantly, love Him. So refreshing and so fulfilling. Without them knowing, they made FA smaller and helped me look to the new year with excitement.

FA is in my viewfinder but it's not the only subject in my snapshot of this life here on earth. 2012 is here and so is FA. But it's not forever.

"Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin"...Zechariah 4:10

2012, let's begin.

I'm okay.

This past week I bumped into someone that I hadn't seen for over ten years. "HOLLY! Hi."
Uh oh- I had no idea who she was although she did look vaguely familiar. I have tried to handle these awkward situations with grace. I simply replied to her, "Help me remember our connection again?" She did and I remembered. I smiled and said, "Sure enough! How have you been?" At this moment her face dropped and she grabbed my arm, "Well, I am doing great but it doesn't look like you are doing too well."
Welcome to my life.

This morning, I had to say good-bye to Delsie. Our lives are going to be changed forever. And because of MY fear of separation, I have been struggling. I can't cry and talk and my dad has trouble hearing-not a good combination. He asked me if I wanted to say good bye to Delsie before I left for PA. Through my tears, I did it. My dad is oh so sweet for watching her for 3 weeks while I meet Barkley. Just like everyone who is encouraging me with hugs, prayers, notes, candy, texts and donations....it's so overwhelming. And so very humbling.

I wish I was quick enough to respond to my old acquaintance, "I am doing awesome. In fact, the best I've ever been." Instead, I left our conversation a bit stunned but believing in my heart without a shadow of a doubt that on the outside, I may not look okay but on the inside, my cup overflows.

2 Corinthians 4:16
Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.

This time tomorrow, I'll be hugging Barkley good-night.

Yea, I'm okay.

I love and hate FA.

I love this photo about as much as I hate it. It makes me remember how hot it was this summer. I loved it. I hate that it's the past and as I pulled the hood up on my sweatshirt and turned on the heat this morning, I started thinking of the past. And then I saw this photo. I love it and hate it. I went camping this summer with my family and not just for a night- the whole entire week. 10 days. In a tent. In 90 degree weather. And Michigan humidity. With my entire family. My mom and dad. My 3 older sisters and their husbands. My 9 nephews and nieces. And Delsie. Delsie and me. I remember when I first returned as a team with D, I was determined to walk on this very beach with just her aiding me. And I did. That's my Delsie. Here I am, 10 years later making another memory with her. Maybe my last one camping with her. So I hate this photo, too. I can't rewind. FA has progressed. I can't walk. I am in a wheelchair. And now Delsie is retired. Oh, how love this photo. Oh, how I hate it.
11 more days until I meet Mr. Barkley for the very first time. It's surreal. I can't believe I am at this point. Not really knowing how to feel. One minute I am elated and so excited with the addition of Barkley. The next minute I am completely overwhelmed and totally uncertain with my decision to pursue a successor dog. This week a friend of mine told me it was probably similar to the time in her life when she was preparing for her second child. She went on to tell me the anticipation was much worse. How I hope she is right.

Then I snap out of the funk of regrets and look at photos like these of my nephews and nieces...and smile. We made a memory. Me and D. She gave me my life back that FA tried so desperately to take away from me. I won't have it. Delsie won't allow it. And now Barkley will join in the fight and tag team with us. Delsie is retired. My palms are sweating as I type those words. I can't look back. I need to look forward and trust that God has my back. Barkley is my successor dog. I have been so consumed with the preparation that in a bizarre way I forget I have FA. Seriously. That's weird, I know. But I have been carrying on as if my life is normal. And nothing about having FA is normal. I found that out Saturday morning as my forehead caught my fall on the bathroom tile. Shoot. I have FA. That's right. That's why I have been blessed with Delsie and soon, Barkley in my life. Every fall is humbling and a bit terrifying as I live this life on earth with FA. I don't pretend to get it. It hurts. A lot. Both physically and mentally.
But I crawl back in my wheelchair. Cry a bit. Shake it off. And know in spite of this love/hate relationship with FA and a goose egg on the forehead, I am not going to let it win.


Ready or not, here I come Barkley.