Circus Acts aren't for the Faint of Heart

These past few days were rough and I don't see any let up. My new catheter is acting up-not draining as well as adding to rather severe pain in my abdomen and left back. I spent most of Friday at the urologist's office trying to find the cause. At the end of the day I was left with a generic diagnosis of MS bladder spasms pinching my catheter that causes urine to push into the tube between my bladder and kidney making it be irritated. No solutions. No treatments. Simply one more thing I have to live with.
And, I am not certain that I can take one more thing. The past three months have been layer upon layer of one more thing. Somehow, I have to live with this.
I am trying to hold on to what I can. My hubbie stays committed to this battle (I both salute his commitment and wonder about his sanity). 
This afternoon two friends stopped by with their adorable daughters and reminded me that living is a blessing. I think of my own son at 15 months and later at 6 years. It seems like yesterday. Raising him and these memories are another thing I treasure.
It seems that I am starring in a high-wire act crossing the Grand Canyon. On one side is the pull of pain and loss and sadness. On the other the bouyant support of friends, family, and the life I treasure. Somehow, I must make my way across this seemingly impossible high-wire feat.
So, thank you to the friends who stopped by today. You may not realize it but a few hours of your time gives me strength to carry on. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

A Week of Extremes

In the same week, my much-loved pastor asked my permission to talk about the joy in my life in his next sermon and my long-term wise counselor asked me about the current state of my chronic depression.  How then, do both joy and depression share space in body and soul?
I wish I could say that I have made friends with the depression. Rather it trails opaquely behind me like the slime from a slug. As a little girl running along the woodland trails and spongy beach-way paths of Oregon, slug slime gave a few second warning of banana-sized slugs ahead. And, if this shiny warning wasn't heeded, in a belly roiling moment slug guts would squoosh between bare toes. I can tune out and ignore the depression. Paste on my shiny happy people smile and joke and talk; but it is always there. I do try to take the best care I can. Medication and counseling help, but recent research indicates that MS-caused depression may be resistant to traditional treatment. That is MS code for nothing can be done; learn to live with this symptom.
For the past few years my world has gone from macro to micro. The resulting aloneness is probably one of the most treatment resistant aspects of living with depression. As my work-life and volunteer-life, first faded away, now I see my most intimate friends moving forward with their lives while I stay stubbornly stuck in neutral.  Learning to live at peace with aloneness is currently my biggest challenge. {Want to know more about MS & Depression?}
What then is this joy in the midst of the depression and challenge of advanced MS. Many good and even great things exist in my life. But not one thing adds an iota of true joy. I am talking of spiritual joy that comes from my relationship with Jesus. From the steady heartbeat of eternity that pulls me forward. It is a commonly held, and I believe false, belief that being a Christian should reward me with the payout of a Barbie and Ken life. Where is my Malibu Barbie beach house with Ken at the wheel of my pink convertible. Shouldn't my allegiance to God produce tangible benefit? Instead, my faith serves as salt to melt through the slug slime. My faith is the touchstone that guides me through the darkest days. Without it, I am not sure I would have survived this far.

  As pressure and stress bear down on me,

      I find joy in Your commands. Psalm 119:43