I will praise you because I have been fearfully and wonderfully made

It’s okay to not always be okay. It doesn’t mean I’m not grateful it means I’m struggling. It doesn’t mean I don’t pray because I do. It just means I’m not okay for today. Maybe tomorrow I don’t know we’re not there yet.

As I sit here waiting to leave for my appointment praying to get my drain tubes out as I have hives all over my torso from the Tagaderm dressing, and one drain clogged that caused a Seroma that will have to be drained I also reflect.

I reflect on this almost 49 year old woman who was crying uncontrollably while her husband gently undressed her to ease her discomfort last night, and helped her into bed. A woman who is trying to find, and grasp the new her
. She is shy for her husband to look at her. The woman who has had a loss, the loss of a body part. A woman who is desperately trying to love herself all over again. You can all say it’s better this way. I know all of this. My body rejected my implants, yet it doesn’t make it any easier to accept.
I can remember people writing in my 7th grade annual to not be jealous of the walls. Trust me I finally came of age, and was happy with what God gave me. This though is different from just being flat chested. I have an incision from one side on my chest to the other, and just my skin. Nothing that resembles breasts at all. I also know as I write this I am just one of millions of woman just like me, but this is my personal journey.

I am doing my best, and my best is all I can do at this moment. I can say this, I thank God for gifting me the man he did. He gently loves me, and lets me go through this process(which sucks). I thank God for being cancer free, and now I pray that God will help me as He has with everything else in my life get through this next new phase in life. I am also grateful for the plastic surgeon who expressed such remorse, and empathy for my situation. It is not his fault my body rejected my implants 2 times. My body is just made different. I am breast cancer warrior! The cancer is gone, and so our my breasts. The older I get, the more I am realizing how intricately made I am…
Psalm 139:15-16
“for it was You who created my inward parts; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I will praise You because I have been fearfully and wonderfully made”.

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One-Liner Wednesday –courage

“Courage, dear heart”. ~C.S. Lewis

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As I share this quote it is so applicable to me as anyone else in today’s day in age.

I am having to have another surgery (4th one) for complications with my breast implants from my breast cancer. This surgery is taking place next Wednesday. I am having to breathe deep, and pray often. Stop, drop, and pray!

This is not something I signed up for, and I was so ready to be back to feeling my normal. That is not the case, and when you have a flat tire you fix it. So that is what we are doing. 4-6 weeks of recovery, and Zoom meetings await me once again. Thanking God I am not in control, and He is! Courage!

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https://lindaghill.com/2021/09/29/one-liner-wednesday-years/

Pick it up be on your way, vanished heart!

Here today, gone tomorrow. In the blink of an eye, 18 years were swept under the mat. Not even a proper goodbye.

18 years of my life in one suitcase, no evidence of me ever belonging to my family. Nor them to me. Vanished from my life, no longer a wife or mom. All was gone

Looking back on all the years the waves we rode, I should have seen the corosion setting in. We were past rusty. Denial eases the sting. Send me on my way, and pretend of my non existence. Does this kind of rejection come with a death certificate? On a plane ready to leave what was my life behind. It changed with the flip of a dime 

Word spread fast that you called it abandonment. You played that card well. You were ill. I had to trust that with God in time, He would give me back my rights. All you packed up in a single night. You can’t pack human life. I could feel the dissolution my children were carrying 

Loneliness crept, and crawled through every cavern of my body. Like a spider bite, with deathly consequence. Alone! Self pity ready to sit and share its first dinner. Feed upon my soul. It was an all time low. I could not hear their voices, see their faces, or feel them. The little light left was becoming so dim. Lord allow me to feel them. Keep the bulb lit 

God I need you to make this wrong right. Evil came, and wreaked havoc all in the still of the night. Those evil mongers were stomping all over shattered images of 18 years. Spitting vile, and having a hay day on our grief. Parading on memories left.Vacating our souls. Make them GO! I hate that suitcase it resembles nothing holy

It seems like a nightmare sometimes still. All this damage. Lord take us all four, and renew us as quickly as night turns to morning. Let glory be seen in this tragic blood fest. Breathe new life, and hope. Heal our soldiers wounds. Break open the cacoon of lies, spill it and make it right 

Vanished without a trace, my kids hearts broken for their mom. All in effort for me to seek your face. Grovel to my knees. Jesus I need YOU!! At the cross of Calvary I will stay, sifting/sorting. Tracing all the years lost, in my memory bank I toss about. So much loss, and in it I know I will gain in my pain. It is the Mystery of your will. I will be still

Bring me out of these termoultulous times, and in you I will trace back my heart from the start. Where I said, yes Jesus in you I believe. Pour your grace upon me. Make me whole again. Let the barren fragments, and pools of tears be yours. Fear no more for I know I am not alone, and you are soverign

I get to see one face that makes my heart sing, and you are allowing traces of my life back. The odds were stacked against me, but in you I will always prevail. What was lost in one suitcase, I am gaining in my soul. You can’t pack human life, for in you there are traces of life being reconditioned. I wish this was a figment of my imagination, yet it is as non-fiction as it gets. It is my story, and I will be better one day for every tear shed

2 down 2 to go. You we will all soon behold. Traces…

Psalm 147:3
He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2020/23/11/figment/

Met with my maker

A conversation with my Heavenly Father;

Come unto to me child, let me lift that fallen chin so you can feel the sunlight beam, and turn your frown upside down. 

I am here

Come unto me child, you are cold with naked skin let me clothe you and give you rest.

 I am here

Come unto me child, you are so weak thinking you can not bare to go on, let me carry you in your weariness. Whisper you a lullaby.

 I am here

Come unto me child, anxiety ridden your heart is heavy laden. I will take it all do not despair. 

I am here

Come unto me child, let me wipe the new fallen tears. With each tear let all the fear be soaked up. Look up into my eyes, I your father have you. 

I am here

Come unto me child, let me wrap you in my love. As gentle as a dove I will take you under my wing. You still have many years of song left in you. You will sing again, praises.

 I am here 

Come unto me child, you have walked many a mile. Your feet are calloused, and so much malice. Let me sweep you up off the gravel you walk. In me take stock, you are my flock. I take great pride in you. No more squabble just sweet surrender, I will give resting peace.

I am here

Come unto me child enter into my Kingdom. Upon your leave you will be holy, unrecognizable. Everyone will ask where you have been. You can I say I was with my father, the makeover you see in me is Him. He has taken residence in my heart. Radiating from my skin.

I am here

Come unto me child, it is a new day with a new start. All the years stolen I have given you back. You need not fret for another moment, I have you. We are one, and the Holy spirit is there as your guide. Hide no more. Walk out your door with your held high, for with me you are taller yet. You have been met with your maker.

I am here

The LORD appeared to him from afar, saying, “I have loved you with an everlasting love; Therefore I have drawn you with lovingkindness. Jeremiah 31:3

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2020/01/02/squabble

I choose to swim…

Been going through a lot, my heart still bares threads. Torn some pieces, edges nudged. Just slightly smudged. Didn’t realize the emotional toll my double mastectomy would take on me

This is my plea, my voice rings out to thee God above. Over mountain peaks, and roof tops I shout this for my heart needs your ear. I need willingness to accept, been very down on myself

I am not poor

I am not shabby

Jesus is my caddy

I am not inferior, or low quality

Jesus is superior

I can’t change the status of my life

I have to grieve

I am not less of a woman

I need to be willing to give myself some grace

I am not subpar

I am not second rate

Jesus is written on my hearts slate

I have to get to a place of acceptance of my new body parts. Art in the making is what it seems. Still trying to wrap my mind around these new things. I guess they call them breasts at best. Jesus hear my plea

So when I look in the mirror things are most definitely different, but I am alive. They are doing there best to make me look great. I try with gratitude to not shake my head with disgrace at the odd shape. Wave my old breasts goodbye. Jesus hear my plea

I will rise above yet another test that God has given me, my prayer is that I swim. Not sink. Pain inflicts, but will not be my fall. I call to thee instead with my plea. Disfigured reflections, I fear rejection. No sensation in either one, numb. Bumping into things, and no feeling. Jesus hear my plea

Hey I know I am not too shabby, just another journey to walk. Not just talk. Probably sounds like I have not made up my mind, on how I feel about myself. Trying to convince myself, yes a little. My emotions are a little of track from this new rack I wear. Jesus hear my plea

A new road now unfolds, imperfect yep. God makes up the difference, substandard not with Jesus as my right hand man. For with Him I will stand facing the mirror with acceptance of what stares back at me. Jesus hear my plea

Time to swim, catch my breath. Tread the water I used to sink. Give myself a break, shake this feeling of indifference away from me. Look at my body with a new perception of acceptance. They may be little strange to look at, and sometimes I gasp. Jesus hear my plea

Watch me take flight, as Eagles soar for Jesus I adore through all the tribulations. This will not get under my skin. Sink or Swim. Jesus hear my plea

I choose swim until the very end…He hears my plea

but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. Isaiah 40:31

Me being a little goofy, trying to catch my breath in the realization of my breasts with absolutely no feeling of sensation, and pain and nerves that strike like lightening. These are things I am trying to accept yet!

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2020/24/20/wave

Am I? Yes!

Am I a little thrown off?

Am I a little anxious within?

Am I a little more tired than usual?

Am I a little nervous of my fever going up as I get dressed?

Am I a little aggravated that I have to be seen as an emergent patient with post double mastectomy trauma?

Yes, yes, yes, yes, and yes! I over did it!

Am I trying to allow God to help me think with clarity of mind?

Am I trying to pray for my anxiety to be stripped from within, for the fear to subside?

Am I trying to muster all the strength I can in Him, knowing He will carry me if need be?

Am I trying to trust God with my fever, and all the pain I am in?

Am I trying to turn my will, and my life over to God and say “thy will be done?”

Yes, yes, yes, yes, and yes! I over did it, “Thy will be done!”

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2020/23/20/aggravate

Nail biting non-fiction, my story still being written

Live in the past I will not. It is the same old human reaction that if only…
If only I had done this different

If I only I had could go back, and make things right

There is nothing I would change for I would not be right where God has me, and wants me. Right here sitting drinking my coffee

Imaginary was fun as a kid, but you see that was my story I sought in that of a bottle. Drink it down as a fairy tale potion. No notion of my reality. With each drink tall tales to no avail of that still being my life. When I woke from my hibernation nothing had changed. Usually it was worse, for I had cast a spell upon myself with evil scoffs of that brew. Mirror, mirror, on the wall, and before any other words could come out another shard of glass fell to the ground. My image could no longer be seen. Broken in the glass my face in puzzle pieces no one with the patience to piece it together again 

A magic potion with special ingredients that make things go away. Mythical I lived as I pretended I was the happiest in all the land. When really I was heavily burdened, and was poisoning myself to no end

So imaginary for me is not fun at all maybe as a wee-one. Today I live as real as real can be. Loyal, and rich. Not rich with monies. Rich with life given from God. Rich with love, relationships, and blessings overflowing. Why would I want to pretend when what has been written is far better than that of any story of a fictctious nature. It is my story!

It comes with gore, grief, heartache, thievery, fighting, drama, and much suspence, as you turn the pages it has a victorious middle with love and overcomings so triumphant it is nail biting. What’s next, is still being written. It is a story still being drafted, and crafted by the greatest of authors. The characters are the same, but a couple have changed. The main character, and the binding of this book is God (he being the authority). For he took the pen in which this story had been written in, and he is now the pen holder. 

It is not fairy tale it is all non-fiction. I would not change a single dictation in this book. It is notated with all truth (hard to bare yes). Yet it is my story, and without it I would not be who I am today. For without all the grit of my story, I would be oh so boring. This story as it is being manuscripted, gives me character. The character I have become as I sit here drinking my coffee, is the one that in the end of this story will get to see everything God has called me to be. He will get all the Glory!!

Now if we are children, then we are heirs heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory. Romans 8:17

Snippets of me, Jesus set me free

Shred that picture of me locked behind my own imprisonment of self shame, for today I am not the same

A sleeper, a zombie, a ghost, death knocked on my door. For alcohol I so adored. Out for my own kill, just take away my tears with multiples in beers. No cheers, echos in darkness my own voice. My own choice, bled my own soul with no remorse

A stone cold heart, broken bruised. It was of my own choose. I held that tonic in my hand chose to not live in dry land. My most prized possesion. Drink until I heard no sound. My own hands draped in my own nape wanting my last breath

Toss that portrait of me not willing to fall onto my knees, throw it into the deepest of seas. Cast my burdens at the cross for I was so lost. Drowning in my own sewage

For I am no longer that scared little Lisa sitting in a corner dreading to be loved. For God my Father lifted my face, uncovered my veil. Swaddled me in His uncondtional love, drop of the bottle. Spilled my wounds. Covered with His blood

I sit here with snippets of who I was, and whom I am now. For this could not be for an alcoholic such as me without God I am nothing. Nothing, but here I sit the bondage broke me. Brought me to my knees. Keep that picture close at heart. Beautiful art!  The bottle no longer drawn to my lips. Just Jesus and His words, unconditonal love and grace. For now I am in seek of Jesus’s face. 

Now instead of intoxicated slurred words that once oozed like rapturous venom let from my lips drip Jesus’s word. For I am no longer a sleeper, I slept and wept long enough. Snoozed in booze, and now my soul gets to rest. My veil tossed, for at the cross, are the new snippets of me. How awesome for I am a living testament! Set free!!

Labor Day memories, free as a bird. He gave me wings that set flight!

Route to the Hiawatha Trail 🤙 in celebration of 2 years of marriage

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2020/09/10/awesome

Ebb, and Wane; Peter out you hear!

Ebb, and Wane entered into the room where I sat. Trying to take seat. I pushed the seat in quickly for they could not take rest. I asked them politely as they were boisterous, and haughty to please Peter-out. My Bible lay open to scriptures for my quiet time with the Lord. This is the usual scenario. Satan will use so many a distraction to keep my eyes from extracting from God’s word.

Lord help my heart to flourish. May the fire always be lit. May it never be extinguished. If I am not set apart, from that of the world how I am any different? Let not the ways of man dwindle me down, so many today don’t want to proclaim your word. Let me sharpen my sword every day.

In your word I will find my sword, let me keep it sharp. May its sheath be of the best bound leather. May I use it as my tool in all I discover.  

The world is misled, it is dapper in its sin. Its lure, polished spilling with entrigue. The views often scewed, and the Bible says we are to have that of eyes as eagles. Hoping I find muse within is their spin and take. May I not be surprised for they will try with diguise, and no relent. May I walk with a guarded heart, and foot that can not be tempted.  

Like so many a thing becomes ritualistic in nature. Let my heart be of the most intimate of demeanor. 

So again as they will ALWAYS try to woo, when Ebb and Wane enter into the room let them scamper out blinded by the light illimuniating from within that of your scriptures pouring over me, and spilling into the room that of YOU!

Scowling with hurt, as they drag their tails between their legs all the way. May they Peter-out, scoffing at how their presence does not even phase me. Howls swoon, but the light will keep them at bay. As relentless as the sun on a scolding dry summer day, again they shall try with their lies foaming at the mouth. May my heart be ever so prepared that when I claim in your name (Jesus) they will always run scared! 

“The weakness of so many modern Christians is that they feel too much at home in the world.” ~A.W. Tozer

Firmly rooted, soil dampened daily need

My feet sink deep into your earth, firmly taking root. Soil bed I lay, nurtured there

The ground kept watered generously, waiting to unveil life blossoms within me

From a shoot to a flower in full bloom. Vibrant in color, a kindergarteners best kept crayon

Fertilized, and nursed to keep disease at bay. New growth daily

Fervent I grow, and fervent He keeps me. The soil that swaddles my new growth keeps my leaves from withering 

Storms pass, and winds blow. Wanting to steal my beauty, make my leaves cower

Soiled in the the seed it is now permiated into my roots, giving me the boost to keep growing

I will not wither, fade, or ebb. I shall stand tall within my root bed allowing to be fed, and fostered

For I am firmly rooted, soils bed has fertilized my core. Beyond any compare

Peace in the watered bed of soil I lay today, and everyday. May the storm pass fast, leaves not dwindle

Flourish not flounder in my pot of life, where I have taken on life. Vibrant no matter the weather’s climate, ravens quake at the sight of the soil they coil away in fear

Let your roots grow down into him, and let your lives be built on him. Then your faith will grow strong in the truth you were taught, and you will overflow with thankfulness. Colossians 2:7

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2020/09/03/raven