The One in Which You See Anna

{post title courtesy of the sitcom Friends, for those of you who watched that show.

we were avid Friends fans, in the day...and may or may not have even owned a copy of the Friends trivia game, and may or may not have played it religiously with dear, special friends with whom clearly we watched way too much TV}

--

about a month ago,

i had the extremely humbling

{oh so humbling}

 experience of being able to share my heart at our church's women's retreat.

i blog off and on about multiple sclerosis and what I've been learning through it.

and, i am so {so, so, so}

much more comfortable in my sweats in front of a keyboard 

than I am with a microphone in front of an audience.

but, i was deeply thankful to be able to share my story of multiple sclerosis and what the Lord has taught me through it over the last eleven months.

so, here you go.

the post in which you see anna.

 and i may die right now, so i will press {publish} before i hit delete. 

{watching yourself on video is a bit, well, brutal}

here's the video from that night,

if you'd like to hear it.

the first part is through about 12 minutes,

and the next part is about 35 minutes after that.

{if the embed doesn't work, this is the link}

MRI and Mutliple Sclerosis

 6 months ago,

i walked into an imaging center.

i laid in a tube for a brain MRI

and had zero inclination that the results would be anything but normal.

well, for those that know me or follow my blog,

you know that that one afternoon spent getting a MRI 

was a life-changer.

---

 

{6 months later}

i feel fantastic.

really, really fantastic.

besides giving myself daily injections,

dealing with the minor side effects from them,

and knowing way-more-than-i-ever-thought-i'd-know about neurological diseases,

i don't think you'd ever know i have multiple sclerosis.

actually, i just mentioned to my ever-loving husband that it still seems so surreal -

when I say those words -

{multiple sclerosis}

outloud,

it seems unbelievable.

for the most part, 

{only by the grace and goodness of my Savior}

 i feel like i handle this whole

i-have-a-progressive-debilitating-neurological-disease gig

pretty well.

that's why,

when a week ago i walked into that same imaging center for a repeat MRI,

my emotions surprised me.

it was as though i was returning to visit a gravesite, really -

the place where the line in the sand of my life was drawn.

the place where my adult life will always be marked as {before} and {after} MS.

that imaging center was a tangible reminder of this disease of mine -

a tangible reminder of how my life has changed, of how my reality has changed.

but you know?

it was also a tangible reminder of the grace and goodness the Lord has poured out upon my life the past 6 months.

He has met me, time and time again,

exactly when I needed Him to. 

His Word has comforted, encouraged, and challenged me to remain steadfast, abounding in good work, and to run with endurance this race the Lord has for me.

and during that MRI a week ago?

I felt like the Lord showed me one small way He loves me, 

even while I was laying in that loud tube.

 I was a bit on edge for the results of this MRI,

but I was doing okay.

okay until the tech 

{whom actually remembered me from 6 months ago!}

came in and started saying stuff like

God never gives us more than we can handle.

and 

be strong, girl, be strong.

and,

there's been so many advances in MS treatment! you'll be great.

i kinda started to panic.

really panic.

like, 

get me out-of-this tube-right-now or i may throw up all over it 

panic.

and then,

over the huge headset they gave me in which i was listening to a Christian radio station,

i heard

"Bless the Lord,

oh my soul,

oh my soul,

worship His holy name."

a couple months ago I wrote about how Matt Redman's song 10,000 reasons had been so influential in my life and in my MS diagnosis.

and it came on, over my earphones, in that MRI machine at the peak of my panic.

so, as I heard that song that I have essentially listened to over and over and over again over the past few months,

i calmed. i remembered the God I serve and How big He is - 

how much bigger than MRI results.

how much bigger than any neurological disease.

Matt Redman sang

And on that day when my strength is failing
The end draws near and my time has come
Still my soul will sing Your praise unending
Ten thousand years and then forevermore

and I remembered how incredibly short this life is.

and when the day comes that my strength fails -

no matter how much sooner or later it is

still my soul will sing His praise.

--

and, by the way,

my MRI came back unchanged from the one 6 months ago.

in neurology talk, folks, that's great news.

kinda means no disease progression.

amen, amen, and amen.

 

Just Diagnosed with MS

my favorite 5-year-old,

with a celebratory ice-cream cone on his last day of preschool.

---

 

One week ago today, 

I sat on the doctor's table in a pink dress, 

flipping through some texts on my iphone as I waited.

My husband and I chatted a bit.

I browsed a brochure.

the clock ticked.

And then the neurologist entered the room.

And, after a lengthy discussion,

made official what had been discussed for months.

One week ago today,

I was diagnosed with 

Multiple Sclerosis.

---

almost 18 months ago.

{February 2011}

I had just returned home from 2 weeks in a small country in east Africa.

we were supposed to be there ministering to the workers there, 

but it was myself who was blessed beyond measure.

 The Lord expanded my horizons on that trip,

and made me long for something more for our lives.

I've written on my blog in several places about our desire to be radical with our lives.

Radical with our ministry, radical in our service to our Savior.

Upon returning home from Africa,

these are the words penned in my prayer journal:

"If you are willing and obedient, you shall eat the good of the land".

 {isaiah 1:19}

Father,

I long to be willing and obedient. 

Where you lead, we will go.

To Africa, to adoption, to other ministry,

to radical ministry right here in Indiana,

whatever you have for us,

we will go.

---

For over a year,

I have prayed to be radical with our lives.

 that wherever the Lord led us, 

we would follow.

Perhaps the Lord was preparing me for a different kind of radical service -

a life lived with a progressive neuromuscular disease.

This is now our new normal.

MS info is almost always a tab on my ipad.

we have stacks of insurance information and injection training paperwork.

This is our new normal.

and, you know?

it's okay.

I am, for the moment, over my initial panic and knee-jerk reaction.

for a month or so after our initial MRI i was panicked.

completely, completely panicked.

but now it's just back to life.

back to serving in our church here that we love.

back to playground visits and splash pad fun and Nerf gun wars.

{it's back to life}

back to believing what I always believed -

the God is always, always, always Sovereign.

that there are purposes to our lives that we may never see this side of eternity.

that my Hope rests on Jesus Christ and His coming again -

My hope does not rest on my desire to walk down the aisle 

{in cute shoes, nonetheless}

at my daughter's wedding.

 or to chase grandkids around our house.

or to travel into our retirement years.

My hope rests on nothing less than Jesus Christ and His righteousness.

Yes, our future may look different than our 30-something-year-old selves had envisioned.

it will be okay.

---

 

One week ago today,

I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis.

whatever the future may hold,

may we be willing and obedient,

and walk in it well.

 

 

Getting Closer: Multiple Sclerosis

hydrangeas. they're some of my favorite flowers.

---

I was going back through some blog posts of mine,

and I noticed I've been quiet recently.

It's not that there's nothing to write about,

kinda the opposite, really.

like my heart has so much to say that it seems too much for a simple blog.

since my last post, I've had 2 more tests

{bloodwork and an EMG}

come back within normal limits.

while normal is good

{after our shock of all shock MRI results late February,

I'll always, always, always breathe a deep sigh of relief when health stuff comes back normal}

these were also kinda the last two possible things to give me a 

get out of jail free card

and skip me pass the whole MS boardwalk.

---

I have a neurology appointment Tuesday.

the closer it gets,

the more real it gets.

the more surreal it gets.

i mean,

ME.

anna ruth w.

mother of 2.

pastor's wife.

former teacher.

runner.

cook.

photography hobbyist.

lover of coffee.

barefeet.

orphans.

kids.

and good conversation.

 

ME.

i am about 

four sleeps

{as my favorite-5-year-old would say}

away from sitting, 

once again, 

high on the doctor's table

and discussing a life-long degenerative,

possibly debilitating 

 disease.

---

 

so, though I've been quiet on here,

my heart has been full.

full of lots of little kid fun.

full of basking in these early summer days with little kids.

full of trying to not think about how much our future might possibly change.

full of not thinking about how nervous I am about MS treatment like daily injections.

full of not thinking about the possibility of cognitive impairment, motor impairment,

sensory impairment, and all sorts of other MS complications.

full of just trying to not think about MS in general.

and, full of knowing deep within, 

that though we are getting closer and closer 

to an official diagnosis,

official treatment,

I am incredibly, incredibly incapable of handling a life with MS.

and, full of knowing that the Lord can handle it, 

and His Strength is made perfect in my weakness.

{and that is enough for me}.

Faith and Multiple Sclerosis

continued from part 1

--------------

 

Dazed, we left the exam room,
made it through scheduling an urgent neurology appointment and walked to the vehicle. 

i cannot have multiple sclerosis. i have 2 little kids.
i cannot have MS. I cannot have MS.
 

we stared at each other in the truck.

i barely slept that night, waking earlier than my usual hour.
i sat down with my favorite mug of strong coffee filled with {more-than-a-dash of} half and half.
I started reading and reading and reading about MS.
I knew no one with it, I understood nothing about the disease.
 
and then,
I opened my vintage-floral, hard-cover, well-worn, much-loved,  and so-needed ESV Bible.
 
I searched for truth. for help.
 
{I searched for hope}.
 
---

 
I recently read this quote about preaching
{what my beloved husband does for a living}:

Preaching is something dangerously public that emerges from something intensely private.

I kinda feel that way about blogging, too.
I know sometimes I just write about the kids or food or every day fun stuff,
but often what I write about comes from a place deep inside me.
a place that stems from my early mornings with my coffee and my Bible.
my pen and a journal.
 
 most of what I write about our health situations
 {including this latest MS journey}
 stems from a place deep inside my heart.
 
so, thank-you for listening, for reading, for loving.
i am often boggled that people would ever even read what i write -
it never seems overly interesting to me -
but, thanks.
 
 
here's the rest of the story.
 
 --

i've seen 2 different neurologists.
I've had a lot of testing done.
lots.
 
we've ruled out basically everything else my symptoms could possibly be -
from the simple stuff like vitamin deficiencies to the serious stuff like strokes.
 
what we do know is that it's not anything else.

at my last neurology appointment -
where, as we were walking into the building my entire left arm and leg went instantly weak
{kinda ironic?}
the neurologist, an MS specialist,
said that it does seem like MS.
the symptoms are presenting like MS symptoms.
my very first MRI was indicative of MS.

in her words,
Multiple Sclerosis is a real possibility.
there are likely no other possibilities.

my c-spine {neck} MRI came back clear.
 this does NOT mean that it's not MS
{as I've heard some people have thought}.

it DOES mean that if it indeed IS MS,
the disease is not advanced.
which, is good.
 
in a week we'll {hopefully} have some more solid answers.

as for me?
i'm doing okay.
a month ago i was on the verge of panic.
sheer and utter panic.

but now?
i'm okay. really.
almost weirdly okay.
i don't know if it's just the fact that it's been awhile since my last appointment,
or if the peace that passes all understanding is guarding my heart and mind.
probably both.

because, you know what?
this is what I wrote in an email to my sweet husband,
who's been ever-supportive,
at very early in the morning after we got the initial MRI results indicative of MS:

I've been telling myself all night (barely slept!) that what I believed about God yesterday is the same today.  He is ever-present in the time of trouble.  He has created good works for me to do, and his grace is so very sufficient.
that email?
it's so true today.
whatever news i get from the neurologist in a week
{be it an official diagnosis, an official non-diagnosis, or just a wait-and-see situation}
will not change what I believe about God.
{that He is all-powerful, all-Knowing, all-Sovereign}

for, His plans are to prosper, not to harm me, and to give me hope and a future.
 
may I love not my life, even unto death.
revelation 12:11

Sparkly Purses.

this morning,

i found Grace's pink sparkly-handled purse

{that she had been carrying around all morning}.

in it?

a pony.

her "lipstick" that is her new obsession 

{and which the promise of a new one totally gets us through a grocery trip}

 

and a yellow and blue rubber ball.

because a girl never knows when she'll need a bouncy ball, right?

---

and, as I cleaned up her purse contents,

i had a flash-forward of about 13 years.

of her carrying a real purse.

coming in the door, plopping it on the table with the rest of cute teenage-girl-ish stuff.

i envisioned her texting her girlfriends,

doing homework,

complaining about boys.

going to sports practice,

youth group,

service projects.

and, my heart stopped.

this little baby girl of mine?

she's growing too fast.

{as is your child, I'm sure}.

since we can't slow time down,

over the past few months I've tried to be even more

 deliberately intentional with these gifts of ours.

{the possibility of a neurological disease will do that, I'm sure..

..if i won't be able to walk in 20 years, you better believe 

i want to be able to say that when I could walk, 

i ran with the kids, kicked a soccer ball, peddled a bike,

 every single time i could.}

so, today?

i hold her when she wants to be held.

i cry with her over whatever's wrong in her almost-3-year-old world.

i give her snacks, at maybe not snack time.

 i let her wear her crazy colorful boots when she wants to.

because really?

the stuff that frustrates me day-to-day?

like spilled cereal and laundry piles

and dirty bathrooms and dishes to wash?

it doesn't matter.

it.does.not.matter.

connecting with my kids?

being kind and tenderhearted towards them?

pointing them towards our Savior?

that matters.

i pray to that i do it better and better each day, with each new phase we enter into with its new challenges.  i pray i pursue kindness towards them, pursue tenderheartedness. pursue love, compassion, gentleness.

{and i pray you do, too.}

I Will Follow

Over the past year, Chris Tomlin's song I Will Follow has been a special one to me.

The Lord used the lyrics well over a year ago

 to help spur my heart to follow Him to a small country in East Africa.

{a country with which I fell in love and my heart longs to return}

when we've sang this song over the past year, 

my heart always beats a resounding {yes}.

Lord, I will follow.

wherever you go, i'll go.

I just never knew that the journey would go in this direction.

---

a couple months ago I had some weird health symptoms.

kinda par-for-the-course around here, right? it's always something.

some weird weakness and tingling along my left arm and leg.

got a bit worried about a stroke, but it went away, and so life went on

and we kinda forgot about it.

forgot about it until about a month later when the symptoms returned.

so, fast-forward through lots of doctors and tests,

and we're getting pretty close to knowing some answers.

what we do know is that it's not a stroke, seizure, tumor, or blood clot.

which leaves other kinda more serious, kinda scary answers.

tomorrow morning I have one more round of MRIs.

we are very hopeful that these will give us some more definitive answers.

a clear MRI is good news.

really, really, really good news.

burst into tears-of-relief good news.

---

Chris Tomlin's song says

Who you love, I'll love
How you serve I'll serve
If this life I lose, I will follow you
I will follow you 

and that's the prayer of my heart.

wherever, however, whenever He leads,

I.will.follow.

what I believed about God 2 months ago?

that He's all-powerful, all-Sovereign, faithful, loving, merciful?

it's still true.

even in the face of a potentially scary diagnosis,

it's.still.true.

What I believed about God 2 months ago, I choose to believe today. 

and tomorrow. and the day after that.

{come what may}.

---

so, friends that have loved us, thank-you for praying with us and for us.

may our heart's response mirror Job's - 

when, 

upon receiving devastating news of the loss of his children and possessions,

he fell on the ground in worship, saying

Naked I came from my mother’s womb,
   and naked I will depart.
The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away;
   may the name of the LORD be praised.”

yes.

 come what may after tomorrow's test,

{may the name of the LORD be praised.}

----

Chris Tomlin's song.