Health Care

So, I'm uneasy writing about my feelings on health care (or politics/international affairs/etc). I don't by any means want this to become a forum to pontificate. So instead, I wanted to address this more as an experience I had. Make no mistake, I definitely have an opinion about it. However, I also don't consider myself an expert on the intricate details of government policies. I realize there isn't a silver bullet. I realize it's been paved by a lot of corruption and self-interest. But I, like many others, am just trying to wade my way through the mess and come to a conclusion that's just. I guess the angle I am coming at this with is more of a 25 year old, single, female who got really sick one day.
(Whew.)

I want to confess something. I am an over-privileged, Caucasian, female who has never appreciated health care before. How could I really understand it's value? I am rarely sick and when I am, it's quickly remedied. A few weeks ago, I realized how much of a basic need and right health care is.

I'm a little stubborn (all confessions are pouring out). I became sick, thought I could fight it off, waited too long to take care of congestion, and ended up with an ear ache/tooth ache/pretty nasty sinus infection (that could have just been a head cold). It's not like I was lately removed from a gall bladder. But you'd be surprised how scary a seemingly small thing like a sinus infection can be.

And there I was smack dab in the middle of a Sunday afternoon. I was desperate. I was feeling awful. I needed to see a physician.

Luckily, I have a new housemate to help me out while I was a hot mess looking through google for urgent care. (Here comes confession # 3) I chose the one in Victor. That must be "safe", right? So there I am, eyes closed in the passenger seat driving to Victor's Urgent Care, using Kimberly's windshield sun shade as an eye protector, head pounding, tooth hurting, and miserable.

And it's about this time I realized just how lucky I was.
I didn't worry about whether or not they would take my health insurance. My health insurance is fantastic.
I didn't worry about health insurance at all. I'm not one of the 47 million Americans without insurance.

But I was at the mercy of urgent care,
Thrown amidst a world of paperwork and cold receptionists (how dramatic sounding).
I was cattle.
Pushed through the doors, quickly inspected, and even more quickly pumped full of antibiotics.
And listen, I'm grateful for it all.
I'm definitely not complaining.

But I realized how special my mom is. She is one of those nurses who meets you in the waiting room at your time of crisis on a Sunday afternoon, warm smile and big hug.

My nurse wasn't like that.
But at least I had a nurse.
At least I had urgent care.
At least I had a prescription.
At least I had health insurance.
At least I had a car to get to Wegman's.
At least I had a Wegman's (everyone should have a Wegman's).

And in the middle of this juxtaposition; feeling so lucky and so frustrated, I got my prescription 15 minutes later.
Copay?: 0 dollars.

What if I was a 25 year old, separated, mother of 5, living alone with the same symptoms, no vehicle, and no health insurance.

I really appreciate health care. But, it's hard not to feel guilty. Maybe guilty is the wrong thing to feel. But in a world where there's a dearth of empathy...I'd rather feel guilty than nothing.
And more importantly, in addition to feeling something, I really want to DO something. 

Without getting bitter.

With a level head.

With character and integrity.

But with passion.

So what do we do?

(let me know if you figure it out.)

Just something I've been thinking about...
xoxo,
mp



Melt Me

(Picture by Lara Jade. Taken from my friend Bethany)

 "I'll take my cold, cold heart. I'll take my un-renewed mind. I'll take Your Word in my hand and then I'll give You time to come and melt me." -Misty Edwards

God is melting me, my heart, my pride, my inability to accept love.

I remember years ago a conversation I had with Jesus. It came from a very honest place in my heart. It went something like this:

Me: Jesus, everyone talks about how much they love You. I don't think I can say that. I don't think I love You. When I say it out loud, it feels silly. It feels weird. It feels fake. I'm sorry.

Jesus: ....

Me: I want to love You. Actually, I don't think I even know You. I want to know you, too.

Jesus: ...

Me: Jesus, I really want to know what it's like to LOVE YOU. To KNOW YOU. To be able to really say "I love you, Lord".

Jesus: ...

The Misty Edwards song goes on to say, 

"I can't even love You unless you call my name. I can't even worship unless you annoint my heart, God. I can't even want You unless you want me first. Come fan the flame."

Well, if I've learned anything in this walk with the Lord it's that when you are raw and open with the Lord, when your requests to Him match His desires...they are answered in some radical ways. Not long after this prayer, I came into a season that I think back on now with a few key words, "Jealous love, pursuit, faithfulness, beloved" This was the season Jesus started to show me He is captivated by me, that He created me, that He is in love with my heart, that He delights in me even right where I am. He started to prove to me His faithfulness, and speak to my heart in daily things. This was when I started talking about "Jesus kisses". Ask anyone around me and they will tell you how crazy I sounded back then. Sometime, I'll talk more about this concept that was coined. Basically, it's as if you have a boyfriend wooing you with gifts and tokens of affection except the boyfriend is Jesus and He makes sunsets and heart-shaped leaves instead of chocolates for you.

So, Jesus started wooing me. And just like any relationship, there comes a point when you are captured by all of the beautiful, butterfly-type love; the esthetically pleasing things. And then it gets serious. Commitment is asked of you and issues bubble up. At the core, I didn't understand unconditional love and faithfulness. And this was when He began to prove Himself faithful. Like a boyfriend proving to a girl he loves, who has been hurt too much, that he is unlike the others and will never go anywhere, Jesus began very consistently showing me that nothing I could do would ever push Him away.

And believe me, I tried to push Him away.

I cheated, I lied, I held back love, I ignored, I got angry. But at the core of all of this was just distrust. I didn't believe that He was really faithful. I thought that eventually I would do something and He would leave. But He says that, "neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Romans 8:39). I think it might be appropriate to also had in there "yourself" in terms of the "anything else in all creation". We really get in there and mess it up.

Ever met someone who is hell bent on destroying something good out of fear? Maybe things are going really well but you don't think it can really happen. It's called self-destructive behavior. (ha) I may have been trying to ruin this thing subconsciously. Not because I didn't want it but because I so desperately did. If He really is who He says He is and He really does what He says He does and He really thinks about me what He says He thinks about me...than He has power over me. Power to disappoint, power to hurt, power to leave me vulnerable. After all, everyone else has left, has cheated. At some point I become too much for everyone else, why is He different? Well, He is.

And in the middle of this season of our relationship, after the excitement and request for commitment, and testing of His love...He reminds me of where we started. The little inside secrets we had. The "Jesus kisses", the wooing, the whispers about balloons that He ignited in my heart.

Listen, I don't know why I love balloons, ok. It just came out of nowhere, but I'm obsessed. 

And here is the end of my story (or beginning maybe?).

The other day I was driving past an abandoned building I had gone to with some friends and explored. I go by this building often. The other day, I drove by and looked as I always did and what I saw almost brought me to tears. Right next to the building, for no other reason that a blatant Jesus kiss there were 7-10 colored, ginormous, helium balloons staked into the ground. So what else could I do? I dragged my housemate out with me and I investigated. And I stole one.

 

I want to cry just now even thinking about it. And look, some of you may be thinking, "Listen, you emotional hot mess, it's just balloons by a building." And maybe you're right. But maybe, just maybe, the whispers in secret between you and the Maker of Your desires could actually be orchestrated into a random display of devotion and understanding. You see, He is the only one who really knows me. He knows me so much that before I understand why I love this balloon-thing, He understands. 

And what else do we really desire in life than to truly be known by someone?

If this is all true, it's scandalous.

That means that after all the times I turned on Him, traded Him in for a more immediate physical relationships, infidelity on my part, disbelief, and anger...He still looked foolish for my sake. He layed down what everyone else would say He deserved...and He chose me. He pursued me instead.

And it worked.

Something in me recognizes that although it's hard to accept, He is not going anywhere.

That a God that I can't see and that I can't touch really speaks to me and passionately pursues me.

That a God that created sunsets with the brush of His hand is jealous over my heart.

What now?

My first blog I ever posted on here talked about sending unrealistic expectations of ourselves and others as well as anxieties up in a balloon. And I think it's appropriate I do it now.

I'll let you know how it goes.

Maybe, this week, look for some "Jesus kisses". They're different for everyone.

Maybe, this week, stop fighting it.

I'm going to let Him melt me.

xoxo

mp

PS- The adventure ended with a quote from Kimberly pretending we were about to get caught my a cop as we walked back to my car. It went something like this, 

"Hello officer. What had happened was, my hippie Jesus freak friend thought Jesus put these balloons out here for her. So we drove out here, illegally parked in this vacant, off-limit lot, trespassed private property, stole city property, and returned to the car with said contraband because Jesus told her to. You understand, right?"

I love her.

Plodding Through the Mist.

 (Source)

Much-Afraid is a character in a book I have been reading entitled Hinds Feet on High Places. At this point in the allegorical novel, she has overcome a lot of different obstacles on her journey to the High Places. Fear has crept in, lies have been listened to, and many tears have been shed. Every time, however, she has learned a valuable lessons and has moved on to the next step in her journey. And right when I'm feeling all warm and fuzzy inside, when I am soaking in all the ineffable beauty that is Jesus in this book, page 144 reminds me of a scary part inside myself:

"She began to realize that, cowardly though she was, there was something in her which responded with a surge of excitement to the tests and difficulties of the way better than to easier and duller circumstances. It was true that fear sent a dreadful shuddering thrill through her, but nevertheless, it was a thrill, and she found herself realizing with astonishment that even the dizzy precipice had been more to her liking than this dreary plodding on and on through the bewildering mist.
In some ways the dangers of the storm had stimulated her; now there was nothing but tameness, just a trudge, trudge, forward, day after day...
 able to see nothing except for white, clinging mist which hung about the mountains without a gleam of sunshine breaking through"

When I came across this part in the book, I had already been thinking a lot about the moments that make up our hours, our days, our lives.  I had actually, only days earlier, posted a status on facebook that read,

"While the 'highs' are exciting, and the 'new' is refreshing...most of your life is determined by how well you handle the boring, the seemingly unimportant, the ordinary moments, and your determination to really commit to the things that are not, at least at that time, 'exhilarating'."

I feel like God is whispering this to me now. Preparing me for a season to come. You see, up until this point it has all been exciting. Everyday is a new adventure with Him, or a lesson to be learned, or trials to go through, or sacrifices to make. It's painful, it's hard, but as Much-Afraid put it, "the dangers of the storm stimulated me".

And that's not to say it won't be exciting again or that it won't be exciting a lot-it will. But I have just cut a lot of strings. Those things that held me down, tripped me up, kept me in the same cycles of behavior and thinking-they're gone. But those were also some of the strings that kept it exciting. Painful excitement, but excitement. And so what's left?

Maintenance. Commitment. 

Remembering what the Lord said last time He said something and sticking to it. Realizing the small moments of dullness and obedience are just as important as the larger more exciting moments of fire and trial. That the moments in the secret place are more important than the moments everyone can see.

And you know what? Maybe if I commit to the unexciting I will develop the character I so very much want in the mundane. Maybe if I cherish doing things in the secret, I won't care as much about anyone seeing them done outside. Maybe I will start to look at the small moments different. I want to have integrity and decency in those small moments when no one else is looking. Those moments I am responding to crazy Rochester drivers or Wegman's line budgers. After all, there are far more opportunities for those than for one moment I will change the world.

I think life is made up of a lot of little moments.

So this week, I'm going to really pay attention to and not despise the times where I'm putting away groceries, doing dishes, getting up again at 6am, taking another shower, doing attendance, getting up again at 6am, secretly blessing a friend in need, taking another shower, doing more dishes, etc. Also, I'm going to look for opportunities inside those moments to be kind, patient, and glorify God.

And when too many of these moments build up without some thrill or adventure from Jesus, I'm going to commit to the daily trudge anyway; day after day. Even when it's boring, even when I don't want to.

Because I think that really makes up your person.
Anyone can do it when it's exciting or there's an audience.
I want to be able to follow Him when it's not.
I want to be able to glorify Him when no one else sees it but Him.

Laura Hackett put it well,
"I will not build my life upon the passing sands of how I feel inside from one moment to the next. But I will love you Lord, my Rock, my God, my Strength. A precious cornerstone."

xoxo,
mp

Palm It.

Happy May 1st! I love the beginning of each month. It feels like a fresh start.

Here is a quick lesson I learned yesterday while a few friends and I took a walk in this wonderful weather;

you can only do it if you lean on someone else.

My new housemate showed me a trick. We were walking on the railings together, both flopping and falling off, arms outstretched like a bird trying to maintain our balance. The funny thing is, we really couldn't do it. I was stubborn, though. I kept trying because surely I could muscle my way through it or acquire the skills necessary to learn how. Jokes on me.

Just then she tells me to stretch out my arm, as she did with hers, and said to me "palm it".

It's called weight-sharing. Get this; the idea is...you share the weight (ha). It creates an easier sense of balance.

So arms stretched out, palms pushed together, we slowly started walking on opposite ends of the track.

And you know what? It worked. We walked. It was so easy. And it was fun.

I learn a lot from the "silly little things". God uses those to teach me really big lessons more than anything else.

So, thank you everyone in my life that frequently practices this with me.  This weekend (or for life, rather)- palm it.

Nights After "Wave Nights"

Rainy days are my favorite. Rainy sunsets and warm nights are even better.
You know when some nights feel super magical? And everything is esthetically pleasing?
Tonight is that night.

Even though last night/day was awful. It was one of those nights I affectionately call:

"wave nights"

What's a wave night?
It's like the feeling you get when you're swimming in the ocean. It can happen even when you think you are pretty safe up on the shore. The waves crash down on you with such force that you get flipped around and water inevitably goes up your nose. That's the key; water up your nose. You know, that super uncomfortable feeling you get with salt water up your nose. Your eyes would be watering if the salt water wasn't already nestled quite comfortably in them causing a surge of pain and a stinging sensation.
Or how about the feeling you get when you dive into the water and don't plug your nose? It injects itself with such velocity up your nose that you shoot straight out of the water.
Either of those descriptions may do.
When I get hit with nights like last night (which happen about once a month, around the 26th, I've tracked them). I just feel like I can't tell up from down. It's like I'm swirling around after being hit by a crushing wave. Thoughts are swirling, emotions are raging, and I can't do anything but cry. It's actually really debilitating (Right about now is when you start to think I'm a nut case) ha.

So anyway, tonight is a bit different. The wave passed. I held on tight, I called a friend, I talked to Jesus, I cried, I got through it.

It reminds me of the scripture in Exodus (I've been loving that book) that talks about when the Israelites were being led and Pharaoh was CHASING them. (I understand this sentiment)

But the Israelites went through the sea on dry ground, with a wall of water on their right and on their left.

Here the Israelites are, being chased by the most powerful man they know, with whom they have formed a quite unhealthy relationship with for years and years as slaves, following God while he does crazy things unimaginable like part the SEA for THEM...and they are provided with a nice, dry ground to walk on. They didn't even have to walk through muck. But just imagine the feeling they must of had when they either looked to the HUGE wall of water on their left and right (that could come down on them at any moment if God wasn't who He said He was) or the army raging behind them. The only option they really had is to continue forward and to only look forward.

Back to tonight. So tonight I'm sitting on my porch, with paper lanterns lit above me, Patsy Kline on grooveshark (reminds me of my grandma) and having a glass of wine. Nights like tonight I'm reminded I'm on dry ground. Even with walls of emotion on my left and wrong thinking on my right, I'm still victorious.

And I love rain. I love how it washes everything. I love how it makes rainbows. I love how it lets you sit inside. I love how it lets you dance in it. I love how it makes puddles to splash in. I love how it smears your mascara and makes your hair a hot mess.

But most of all, I love nights after the "wave nights". When you are reminded the sun still comes up, that you will be OK, that you are winning the battle, that things still are beautiful, that housemates come home and make dinner, that friends will talk to you late at night when you are balling, that truth defies emotions, that Jesus really is good, and that within 24 hours Jesus can give you one of your favorite things-a beautiful, thunderstormy, sunset, warm, rainy night. Because He knows your hearts desires. And because He's proud of you.

Walk on that dry ground while your enemies are crushed behind you.

xoxo
mp

Trees and Sad Nights.

 Trees are something I have always really been captivated by. I'm not totally sure why. Partly because they stand as a testament to how small we really are. Some stand 150 years old or older. I think I also really love them because they speak to me about my future; they cast a vision.

Someday, I want to be like this tree. Rooted, established, committed to a place, firm, and unwavering.

Col 2:6-7 "So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live your lives in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness." 

But you know what? I'm not. Not yet, anyway. I'm learning and I'm on a course there-but I have a long ways to go.

Ever have nights like mine tonight? Where you see where you are called to be, you are falling so short, you are fighting the lies, and the only way you can keep going is to hold on to the one thing you can't really hear or see; Jesus.

 2 Corinthians 4:18 "So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary but what is unseen is eternal."
Hebrews 11:1 "Being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see."

That's me tonight. And I won't lie, it's a rough night. Nights like tonight mean sitting down in my bed, in the secret place no one really ever will know about...and hashing it out with Him. Hashing it out until my heart calms down, until my spirit has peace. Hashing it out until I cry, until I trust a little more, until my mind is renewed.

Because you see...He will finish what He started. He doesn't begin a good work unless He plans on finishing it to completion. And even though sometimes I know that, right now I'm a little sad. So I'm going to let Him tell me again the two questions that are burning on my heart, "What do you really feel about me?" and "What were you thinking when you made me?".  Because ultimately, all of this comes down to my identity in Him and me trusting in Him. I'm going to let Him teach me how to love and be loved.

I'm not that tree yet, but I am a promise. I am a sprout, or maybe even a baby sappling. And sometimes it feels like desert is all around me. But, He is there. And He is faithful.

Puzzle Pieces

I recently have acquired a new housemate. This transition was actually quite terrifying for me. But like the new book I am reading (and highly recommend), Hinds' Feet on High Places by Hannah Hurnard  says,

"Most things are not nearly so appalling in actual fact as they are in anticipation".

It's suppose to just be until August so it's a nice baby step for me. In reality, it's been really amazing to learn how to "do life" with someone else. To give a little, to learn a little, to be more selfless, and to just have someone to share your day with when you come home.

(Kimberly moving in to the spare bedroom, or her bedroom, rather)

(Oh hey, it's our one week anniversary as housemates!)

That quote is how I've been feeling about lot of old fears, including living with someone again. But this move-in has proved to be one of the best learning experiences. Said housemate is everything I am not; super organized, solid, consistent, and responsible. Not to say I am not sometimes those things, but for her, that is her core. She is the solid, I am the flight-that's how it goes (and it works well for us).

My new housemate and I have also picked up a new hobby-doing puzzles. (We are hoping whatever puzzle we are working on will become a sort of center of the room, communal puzzle where everyone contributes!) But, I know what you are thinking. If you are anything like me your brain has immediately plugged "doing puzzles" into your granny-like-schema. I have to tell you, you don't know what you are missing.

Through this activity I have learned several things:

• Your puzzle partners victories are your victories.

-Many times we both yelled together when parts we had been working on for a long time came together. Even though it was her section, I was super excited. This was different for me, normally I'm super competitive. It was really nice to work alongside someone and enjoy in their victories as much as mine.

• Your puzzle partner has strengths where you have weaknesses (Believe it or not, you may have a weakness!)

--My housemate is really good at finding missing pieces I cannot. She can see angles that I can't see and has enough balls to push pieces together when I am too timid. And normally, she's right!

• Doing puzzles is ADHD heaven 

-If you are anything like me and have ADHD tendencies, puzzles are a magnificent way to have conversations and watch movies while your brain and hands simultaneously create puzzle magic. (Wizzam!)

• Lastly, Jesus talks like crazy to me through cardboard puzzles.

-This one was huge. I kept thinking about so many life concepts. Examples:
1-Don't force puzzle pieces together. They may look like they fit, they may have some of the right colors, but it just doesn't fit no matter how hard you push and bend.
2-Learn when to set a section down and look at a different part of the puzzle. You gain perspective.
3-When doing a puzzle, you group colors together first. You have NO IDEA what it's gonna look like. You just start sectioning off parts of the puzzle (Letting go of having it all figured out is super hard for someone like me).

4-Eventually, once you have sections grouped, you match a few together and things start to make sense.

I realize doing puzzles for everyone will not be a life-changing, metaphor creating, housemate bonding experience. But for me...it was. And it's funny that I should pick up this particular hobby now, when I feel like more than ever I'm finding all my lost puzzle pieces and gathering them back up.

All of that loquaciousness to say, I'm learning to let the puzzle pieces fall into place. I'm learning to trust in the One who already sees the whole puzzle. I'm learning to rejoice in the victories of people around me. I'm learning to let other people contribute their part of the puzzle. I'm learning to start with babysteps. And someday...it all will fall into place!

  (In case you were wondering I said the word "puzzle" 18, now 19, times)