Author: Rev Kathy

We are troubled on every side, yet not distresssed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; Persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed.  – 2 Corinthians 4:8-9

i looked around me and saw all the signs of being troubled, perplexed, even persecuted and cast down.  The signs: a walker, a wheel char, a lift chair, a bath chair with heavy duty handrails – all signs that I could no longer care for myself.  The house, transformed for my comfort, was daunting to me, depressing.  And I wondered if ever again I would be able to walk on my own and get up out of my chair.

This passage of scripture, though, rang holy and true.  I was not destroyed even after all the destruction to my body.  I had failed kidneys, but I still had life, and the hope that my dedicated physical therapist would help me find my way back. During those days, she came twice a week, as did the woman who was my bath aide.  Slowly, but surely, they taught me balance, helped me rebuild my strength, and taught me to walk, to get up from my char, and to bathe myself.

I spent many hours sleeping during that time, and I spent my time in relative solitude while inspiration and new hope came back to me slowly and quietly.

I was definitely cast down in these quiet days, but never destroyed.

If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; Even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me.   – Psalm 139:9-10

One of my favorite passages from the Bible took on more significant meaning during the worse days of my illness.  Like most people would, I felt completely trapped by my sudden limitations. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move around on my own.  I could not even feed myself.

I was afraid that I would be forever trapped in a place of having lost my abilities. I was afraid I had lost myself completely.  I longed to “take the wings of the morning” as the Psalmist said, and transport myself to a better place. Yet even in that frightening place, I felt the strong sense that God’s right hand was holding me securely. For that I am truly grateful.

A fire rainbow is a rare phenomenon that only occurs when the sun is higher than 58 degrees above the horizon.  The light passes through cirrus clouds made of ice crystals. So everything nature requires has to be in place in order for the stunning fire rainbow to make an appearance.

When I was young I drew rainbows all the time. On this particular day I had my pastels spread on the desk in my room at the Baptist Rehabilitation Center and I attempted to draw a rainbow.  Nothing happened. My hands just couldn’t hold the pastel. There was no rainbow on that day, not by my hand.

When I went to therapy that day I practiced writing my letters …. A, B, C, D, and on to Z.  It was a mess, like the lettering of a four-year old child. I wondered how I had lost so much of my daily functioning, something as basic as writing. But I had lost that ability, and it was a long road back.

In in a matter of days, I could write again. In weeks, drawing a rainbow was possible. It felt like a small miracle to me that rainbows were possible again. Who knows?  Someday I may even paint a fire rainbow. Thanks be to God, to so many friends who prayed for me, and to my very patient and relentless occupational therapist.

“I love the light for it shows me the way, yet I will endure the darkness because it shows me the stars.”

Og Mandino

The year I remember as my worst, 2014, was a year with lots of darkness.  The dark days and nights of unexpected and serious illness will forever leave a mark on my life’s journey.  It would be accurate to say that I felt fear and the darkness that surrounded that fear.

Of the 55 days I spent in the hospital, many were days when I didn’t know I was in the world. The other days were dark with fear.  But my past had taught me well.  I was dwelling in the dark night of the soul.  Of that there can be no mistake. The night of that time was darker than a thousand midnights.  But I had long since learned to love the stars that could so brilliantly enlighten a dark path.

And I remembered one of my favorite quotes from Sarah Williams. “I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.”

This day was a day like no other.  I was alone in my hospital room and in came the Occupational Therapist.  I did not expect her.  Nor did I expect what I was about to discover.  She emptied out her toy bag and revealed several colored blocks.  No big deal, I thought, just blocks representing primary colors.

Then she asked me to pick up a block, place it in the correct slot, and name the color. I picked a block of a color I have known since I was a toddler. It’s green, I thought.  But no matter how hard I tried I could not say it. How does one lose capabilities so quickly? And what happened to me medically to affect my cognition and my speech so profoundly?

That was a day I’ll not forget. I couldn’t identify green, the color I so loved. The color of trees and forests was lost to me that day. And it took diligent work to recover my ability to recognize and identify color.  So I am reminded how difficult it was for me to say “green” on that day. And I am also reminded not to take the special hue of leaves for granted. I will always love a path through a forest and all the lush green that covers me.

“Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.” Rabindranath Tagore

Rain and storm filled 2014. I was very sick, sick enough that I didn’t even know I was in the world. I saw my illness through the eyes of others, my brother who traveled to see me when I didn’t even know his name, my cousin who came and was so alarmed by my situation, my sister-in-law who insisted that I needed to move nearby so that they could help care for me, and my grieving husband who thought he had lost me more than once.

It is easier now to look back at all those stormy times and to realize that my sunset sky is back, filled with the color of new life. Dialysis for seven hours every day is a strain for us, but it is also life-giving. It is indeed a cloud that floated into my life. It also adds color to my sunset sky. And I so love color.

I never intended to embark on a new journey.  My life has been circuitous and full of journeys large and small.  In February of 2014 my kidneys failed. I came much too near to the end of my life.  This blog will share what life was like during that time and following. I find it strengthening to reflect on my present life in light of the past and to share how my illness affected what is going on in my life today.

I invite you to join me as I describe this new journey.