Springtime Festivities

Life just hasn't stopped for one minute to let me catch up this week. In lieu of no time, here are some picture highlights from the last few days:     

 

Every Sunday night, we have a group of friends over for dinner and hearty conversation. We've met most of them at church or college. When we get together we talk about the most recent Redemption Hill sermon. We discuss what we liked, things that didn't make sense, and the vastness of God's wisdom. We share our lives with each other and how our weeks have been. We've been doing this since December and it's just been so awesome. It's nice to have people that know and care about what's going on in my life, week in and week out.

This past week we decided to celebrate Passover for our Sunday night dinner (I wrote briefly about the history of Passover here and my mom just posted about it here!). During the Passover meal, the story of how the Jews were powerfully delivered is told. Each item on the menu symbolizes something from the story. For example, a bowl of salt water represents the Jews' tears as they cried out to God to deliver them from slavery. As Christians, we celebrated Jesus, the Lamb of God, who died as the ultimate sacrifice for sin.

"For you know that it was not with perishable things such as silver or gold that you were redeemed from the empty way of life handed down to you from your ancestors, but with the precious blood of Christ, a lamb without blemish or defect.  He was chosen before the creation of the world, but was revealed in these last times for your sake. Through him you believe in God, who raised him from the dead and glorified him, and so your faith and hope are in God." 1 Peter 1:18-21


 

Tiny thing miraculously fed us all...$18 later

I made Herb Roasted Leg of Lamb. I said many-a-prayer throughout the day as it cooked. I've never made lamb so I was a bit nervous to serve it to everybody. It ended up turning out! I tucked the recipe away for next year.

Kombucha

My kombucha was finally ready today after ten days of brewing! If you haven't been introduced to this lovely beverage, it's basically fermented sweet tea. As it ferments, the sugar gets eaten up so when it's time to drink, it doesn't leave that sugary film on your tongue. Once you bottle it up and let it sit another few days, it can become bubbly like soda. It has live cultures galore (good bacteria) so it aids in digestion and everything else that goes along with a healthy tummy. It also helps your body detox. I got my starter (SCOBY) from my sweet friend, Jess. One bottle of this stuff at the store is $3.99, so I'm pumped that I'm finally making my own and saving some cash.

yum!

The SCOBY will remain hidden...not too photogenic.

I made some chicken broth last week. I put a whole chicken and some veggies in a slow cooker for 24 hours and out pops this beautiful stuff...

Homemade Chicken Broth

The chicken broth recipe is very easy or else it wouldn't have gotten done. The best part about using a whole chicken is that I also use the meat to make other meals. We've already used it to make chicken pot pie and I'll make enchiladas tonight. Homemade broth is so different from the store bought stuff. You know it's good for you when you put it in the fridge for a day or two and it gets jiggly like jello. All the gelatin concentrated in the broth is vital for your joint/tendon, skin (your very own fountain of youth!), and hair health. It also soothes digestion and gets things moving. It also stimulates the immune system, regulates hormones, and is a natural anti-inflammatory. Got some aches and pains? Heat up some of this and drink it instead of your morning coffee and start your day off feeling well. 

Here's the recipe (from Nourishing Traditions):

• 1 whole organic pastured chicken or 2-3 pounds chicken bones with or without bits of meat, including feet and organs if you have them
• 4 quarts filtered water
• 2 T vinegar
• 1 large onion, coarsely chopped
• 2 carrots coarsely chopped 
• 3 celery sticks, coarsely chopped (Sometimes I omit if I don't have any)

I put mine in a large slow cooker and cook for 8 to 24 hours (Depending on how much time I have or when I need the broth/meat). The longer it cooks, the more nutrient-dense the broth will be.

After it's done, I fish out the chicken with two slotted spoons and take the meat off and reserve it for other meals. Sometimes I also reserve the veggies for dishes like pot pie as well.

Stovetop Directions:

1. Put chicken and/or chicken parts in a pot, add the water, vinegar and vegetables. Let sit for a half hour, then bring to a boil and remove the scum/foam that rises to the top with a spoon. Reduce heat, cover and simmer for 6 to 24 hours. 
2. Remove chicken with a slotted spoon and reserve meat for other meals.
3. Strain the stock into a large bowl. Pour into mason jars or paper cups. Let the glass jars sit until they are pretty cool, then freeze or refrigerate. 

Frozen Chicken broth

I used paper cups covered with foil. I know it's not the most eco-friendly option, but I haven't built up my mason jar collection yet. 

 

DIY Pom Pom Chicks

While nannying this past week, the kids and I made these adorable little guys (get directions here!) They were pretty easy and even the 4-year-old was able to use kiddie scissors to help make the pom poms. We want to try and make bunnies today! 

DIY Pom Pom Bunny

Happy Easter!
 

Table Tales: A Lasting Supper

 

“It’s time to eat!!!” My mom would cry as she clanked the cowbell with her sturdy spoon. By the third time, she could start to make out the barefooted tornado of dirt, curls, and laughter migrating towards her. As hard as it was to pull ourselves away from playing, we knew even as kids, the next part of our day was worth it.

With a fussing baby on her hip, my mom flawlessly flung potato soup into seven bowls. As my dad thanked the Lord for our meal, everyone seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. Seated at this table, all was right in the world. This was our safe haven from every storm of the day. As each daughter recounted her day, my parents would intently listen and ask questions. They encouraged us to create and work hard, always inspiring us to use our gifts and talents. The most important thing that happened at that table was how they taught us to trust in something bigger than our family. They told us in how they lived their lives and their words, that Jesus was bigger and even better than these moments together and one day we will all be seated with him at his table.

Mealtime is somewhat magical. Amidst the craziness of the day, every person on the face of the planet must stop and take a moment to refuel. It reminds us of our mortality and forces us to rest. In the Bible, God makes a point to show himself to his people over meals. When the Israelites cry out to God to deliver them from slavery in Egypt, God hears them. He sends awful plagues to exhaust the Egyptians until they release his people from slavery. But when they don't, God sends a final plague that will really shake them up. God sends the angel of death to kill every firstborn child in the land, including Pharaoh’s son. 

God instructs his people to eat a “Passover” dinner that night, which included a lamb and bitter herbs, representing their slavery. He tells them to kill the lamb and spread its’ blood over their doorposts so that when the angel came to kill, he would see the blood and pass over their home. The people had to believe that the lamb was killed in place of their firstborn child and only then would the angel skip their home.

The Israelites left Egypt that night. God commanded the people to eat this meal every year to remind them that it was He who had delivered them from slavery. The people made it a tradition to eat this same meal once a year and tell their children the story of “Passover.”

Skip a few hundred years to when Jesus was on earth. The night before he died, he was celebrating the Passover meal with his friends. They thought he would reign as king of the Jews forever. But Jesus knew the reason he came was to die. As they ate the meal that reminded them of the night when the angel passed over Israel’s homes, Jesus gave them a new dinner tradition. He took a loaf of bread, broke it and told them that it represented his body. He told them to eat it and remember. Then he held up the cup of wine and told them to drink his blood. Yes, that sounds a bit creepy if you didn’t grow up hearing it, doesn’t it? Jesus went on to say that his blood represented the new promise between God and people. No longer was the blood of a lamb needed to pay for their sins. His blood would be the perfect sacrifice for everybody who believes.

The next day, like a lamb he was led to his slaughter, yet he did not open his mouth to protest. And just like the Passover lamb, he was killed.

“But he was pierced for our transgressions,
he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was on him,
and by his wounds we are healed.” Isaiah 53:5

Jesus said something during the Passover dinner that I hadn’t noticed before until now,

“I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer. For I tell you, I will not eat it again until it finds fulfillment in the Kingdom of God.” Luke 22:15

Fulfillment in the Kingdom of God? What’s that about? I flipped over to Revelation and got butterflies in my tummy as I read about heaven.

“Let us rejoice and be glad and give him glory! For the wedding of the Lamb has come…Blessed are those who are invited to the wedding supper of the Lamb!” Revelation 19:7-9

Another meal! This meal will definitely top all the others. I love getting a glimpse of heaven. It is at the wedding supper of the Lamb that we will find completeness in Christ and see him fulfill his promises in the Kingdom of God! No longer will we be bound by our brokenness and tendency to sin against God. At this meal we will celebrate our redemption as sons and daughters. What a meal that will be as we find our names at the table with God, celebrating that his son, the Lamb, has adopted us into his family forever. 

Photo Credit Kristen Mills

Table Tales: Sunday Supper

This past summer a friend of ours was going through a really rough time and just really needed companionship…and some comfort food. I decided to invite her over for a Sunday pot roast and cherry cobbler because who doesn’t feel better after some cobbler? My parents ended up in Richmond that day so we invited them and my sister, Ellie, to join us for the meal as well. I was so excited to show them the newest addition to our family, the table!

Our friend came to church with us before the meal and I could tell some things from the sermon didn’t sit right with her. During lunch, she admitted she didn’t know much about the whole Jesus thing except for the judgmental attitude she had experienced from his so-called followers. As she told us her experiences, my heart broke. She shared that she felt shameful and assumed God hated her for her sin and was punishing her with a sad and lonely life. She asked us if Jesus was like the “Christians” she knew. Relieved to shed some light on her mounting guilt, I began to explain the Jesus I know. 

I told her Jesus only ever showered the poor and brokenhearted with love, not judgment or hate like so many have falsely done in his name. I told her I was so sorry for all those people and their judgment. Sadly, no one can say they aren’t guilty of judging someone or insulting him behind his back. I will be the first to admit it. We’ve all messed up and have failed to live the perfect lives of love God intended for us. Since we have judged, hated, and slandered our brothers and sisters, God says according to his law this is equivalent to murder. And you know what he says we deserve? Death. This is punishment for breaking his law. Just as a king would act justly and punish one of his subjects if he committed treason, God works the same way. I deserve nothing from God for breaking his law, except death.

"For I, the LORD, love justice; I hate robbery and iniquity.” Isaiah 61:8

She hung her head low as I spoke so I said, “That’s not the end of the story!”

When he said he loved justice, he wasn’t lying. He was so serious that he sent his son to be fully God and fully human. And because of our innate brokenness, Jesus lived the perfect life we aren’t capable of living. When Jesus died, God accepted his death as payment for all sin—past, present, and future. And now when I believe that Jesus is my “Savior,” I’m saying that he lived and died in my place. By his grace, I’m free from the heavy weight of guilt. Not because I’ve done enough good things, but because when God looks at me, he sees me like he sees Jesus and then smiles and says, “You are perfect, Hannah.” I can confidently say that when I get to heaven, I will be welcomed into the gates with a hug, not a pitchfork.

My friend had lots of questions and was wary of believing too quickly. The one thing she knew she could believe right then was the way we loved her like Jesus would have. As we finished up our cobbler, my mom asked if we could pray for her situation and direction in her life. As my mom prayed, she asked God to overwhelm her with his great, big love. Tears just spilled and spilled from her eyes.

I drove her home and on my way back all of a sudden I realized God had heard me when I first asked for a table! Yeah, yeah…of course he heard me because we now had a table. But the part of the prayer I didn’t really expect to see right away was what surprised me. I had asked him for opportunities to share his love at the table. I didn’t realize that very thing had just happened till it was all said and done. For our very first meal at the table, his plan of redemption for all creation, including this woman, was proclaimed! I thanked him for being faithful and inviting me to share in this life with him.

“When you were dead in your sins…God made you alive with Christ. He forgave us all our sins, having canceled the charge of our legal indebtedness, which stood against us and condemned us; he has taken it away, nailing it to the cross. And having disarmed the powers and authorities, he made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them by the cross.”  Colossians 2:13-15

Table Tales: Searching for "the One"

The first two years of marriage, Jake and I lived in a tiny, little birds-nest-sized apartment. We were both in school and funds were tight so we didn’t have much of a choice on the size of our new home. It was cozy and cute but in the way a puppy is cute till he chews your favorite heels. Paper-thin walls, shamelessly vocal neighbors and sociable mice were things I couldn’t wait to leave behind. My least favorite part of living in a small space was not having a table. I wanted so badly to host our friends and family but had nowhere to do so.

I had been praying for a few months that God would deliver us from that tiny, little thing when one day our friend who owns apartment buildings called. He said he had an apartment with a roomy living room available but that we’d have to move within the next two weeks if we wanted to snag it. 

 Needless to say, we were moved out in a matter of days. 

I knew this apartment was a direct answer to my many prayers so the first thing we did once we moved in was dedicate the space to God for his use. Then the search began. I shopped for tables during my lunch breaks, snack breaks, and evenings. I asked God to provide an affordable table. I promised to use the table to share his love.

Look at these tables! How can one resist?!

 

To my detriment, it can be so consuming to collect lots of fun furniture. I convince myself that I need so many things. I really can become obsessed with nesting/decorating and have a hard time turning off my mind once I start imagining all the possibilities for a room. Not that nesting is inherently bad, but when it becomes the only thing I can think about, there the problem\ lies. I wanted the need for this table to be different. I wanted it to have a greater purpose than just looking pretty.

I daydreamed of having a dozen friends over for dinner, eating at a long, rustic farmhouse table. But when I realized it wasn’t a reality for our finances or the space we had designated for a table, I decided to revert to Craigslist for some bargain hunting. The listings were plentiful and so were the hideous tables. After sifting through posts for a few weeks, I finally found something decent. As Jake and I drove out into the middle of nowhere to inspect the table firsthand, we (well, mostly I) wondered if these were the last moments of my life before a serial killer lured us into his garage on account of a cheap table. But when a chatty little redhead rode down the driveway on his tricycle to meet us, we knew this was providence.  

The table turned out to be just what we needed. It didn’t seat twelve but it could seat six with the leaf and came with 6 chairs. For $60, you couldn't beat this deal. I just love finding a steal. It fit in our apartment perfectly. We thanked God for his provision and dedicated the table to him as we had done with the apartment. I asked him to break in the table with an opportunity to share our home and his love. 

The table.

...More Table Tales later this week!

Roasted Garlic Spread with Probiotics

I personally believe there is nothing more beautiful than waking up to a fluffy, toasted bagel with cream cheese. If I had to get stuck eating one thing for the rest of my breakfast years, it would be this combination. But depressingly, when I stopped eating gluten and dairy, it also meant I had to give up my love for bagels and cream cheese. I’ve had a few gluten free “imitation” bagels but it was always like bighting into a dense sponge. My teeth literally squeaked against the surface as I bit in. After 6 long years of bagel-less mornings, I decided something had to change. One day, as I walked happily through my local Kroger grocer (I have a love for grocery shopping), I stopped dead in the freezer section. With wide eyes and a loud gasp, I whispered to myself, Could this be what I’ve waited for all these years? I knew I had to be reading the label wrong, “Gluten Free Bagels That Don’t Taste Like Rubber.” Well, it didn’t say the last part but I knew that brand made bread that tasted delicious so the bagels just had to be good too.  I yanked open the freezer door and pinched them to see if they were real. They were frozen so my fingers didn’t sink in like I expected. I decided I’d have to buy them to see if they were as good as they looked. A whopping 6 bucks later, they were mine.

To make a long story short, they were better than I imagined gluten free bagels could be. They became fast friends with my kitchen and taste buds. But something was missing. A bagel isn’t complete without cream cheese. The next time I went to the store, I explored my options. I came home with tofu "cream cheese", which just didn’t hit the mark for me. I don’t really like to play around with soy products (learn about the dangers of soy here here), so I decided to stick with butter. Contrary to popular belief, butter is wonderful.

Just to name a few benefits of buttter:

            --It’s rich in the most easily absorbable form of Vitamin A, necessary for thyroid                    and adrenal health.

            --Great source of Omega 3’s

            --Contains essential minerals

            --Filled with Glycospingolipids which protect the stomach from gastrointestinal                     infections (Yes, please!)

            - Contains Lauric acid, important in treating fungal infections

            - Contains Lecithin, essential for cholesterol metabolism.

            --Cholesterol found in butterfat is essential to brain and nervous system                                   development. (Find out why cholesterol is essential to our health:                      here )

So, I love butter. If after some research of your own, you find that you don’t share the same love, whatever you do, don’t go for margarine. It’s usually made up of hydrogenated oils that are terrible for our bodies.

Now, getting to the point of my post… awhile back my mom posted a recipe for pickled roasted garlic (It’s the 3^rd recipe down the page). Pickling is fermenting food in salt and/or whey to make it rich in bacteria that is beneficial for your gut and proper digestion. I decided to make my own and let me tell you, I don’t need no cream cheese after I discovered this stuff.

After roasting, peeling, then letting the garlic sit in it’s little saltwater bath for 3 days (yes, like Jesus), up rises the most delectable spread of your life. Plus, I don’t have to feel bad about not having yogurt that morning to get my probiotics because I’m getting them from the pickled garlic! This stuff seriously tastes like dreamy garlic bread. It’s better than Olive Garden bread sticks. Yes, I stand by that statement.

Here we go:

2 heads of garlic (Or up to 6)
1 teaspoon sea salt
2 tablespoons whey (if you have none, use 1 additional tsp. salt)
1/4 cup water (Or enough to cover the cloves)
Directions: Break off the cloves from heads but don’t take off the peel. Bake garlic cloves at 300 degrees until most of the cloves open. (Mine took about an hour. They should be a little brown so that they'll be easy to spread). Peel the cloves and place into jar. Pour other ingredients over but make sure to have 1 inch at top of jar with no liquid. Cover tightly and keep at room temperature for 3 days then transfer to refrigerator.
The mixture should be cloudy but if it has anything growing on top that smells weird, looks weird, or just doesn’t seem right, don’t eat it and discard. The garlic cloves should look the same as they did when you put them in the jar 3 days earlier.

Besides tasting like heaven, garlic has a long list of benefits to our bodies, including: lowering blood pressure, thinning blood, promoting cardiovascular health, fighting cancer, anti viral, fungal, and bacterial properties, and reducing number bug bites!

1) Break apart garlic heads but don’t peel cloves.

2) Place in baking dish and roast on 300 degrees until clove skin cracks open and cloves are easily removed. It will smell heavenly.Mine took about an hour. You want them to be a little brown.

3) Remove from oven and peel.

 

4) Place in jar. Mix whey, salt, and water together and pour over garlic cloves in jar. Stir gently to mix and then close tightly for three days, then transfer to cold storage. 

On day 3, your garlic should be ready to eat! Take out the cloves and spread them on buttery toast.  To finish off my breakfast, I fry up some eggs and tomatoes.

Serve your eggs, tomatoes, and garlic bagel with green onions and raw milk aged cheddar cheese (which has a low lactose count I’m able to tolerate).

My garlic spread isn’t pictured because it’s still pickling.

Thank God for garlic and a new day and enjoy!

My Flesh and My Heart May Fail, Part 2

“I hear the Savior say,
Thy strength indeed is small;
Child of weakness, watch and pray,
Find in Me thine all in all.”
 -Elvina M. Hall

 If you haven’t read part 1, you can find it here. 

 It was 9:30 PM. I had just come home after a long day at school followed by an evening at church for youth group. I had a paper to write and my body hurt. My muscles were in all kinds of knots and my stomach was refusing to digest whatever I ate for dinner. I was frustrated with my body, but mostly with God. I knew he had kept my heart from damage, but that didn’t mean there were no other lasting effects from sickness.

 I had dozens of conversations with my parents about how I was feeling. Throughout my childhood, I leaned on my parents for advice, answers, and faith to believe God when things got tough. But as I fell deeper into this darkness, no person could give me the answers I needed this time. Through my tears, questions I hadn’t cried since that sickly summer day spilled from my mouth, “Why me? Don’t you see me? Can’t you hear my crying?” I couldn’t stop sobbing, partly from the pain and partly from my deepening hopelessness. “If this is what it feels like to live, I’m don’t want to anymore. 

 But… 

Lord, if this is your plan for me…if you can tell me there’s more to this struggle than what I can see, I’ll endure it.” 

 I decided to read a Psalm because at that moment I felt like David, writer of some of the most eloquent groaning in the Bible. I opened up to Psalm 105. I wasn’t really in the mood for what the title foretold, “Tell of All His Wonderful Works” but oddly, I decided to keep reading. It started off strong, “…let the hearts of those who seek the Lord rejoice!”

"Lord, I’m seeking…can I rejoice now? Please, just show me what all this is for." But, at this point I was starting to sniffle again.

 Reading on, I soon realized that this was the moment God would begin to answer my aching questions.

 “He [God] called for a famine on the land of Canaan,
cutting off its food supply.
Then he sent someone to Egypt ahead of [God’s people]—
Joseph, who was sold as a slave. 
They bruised his feet with shackles
 and placed his neck in an iron collar.
 Until the time came to fulfill his dreams,
 the LORD tested Joseph’s character. 
Then Pharaoh sent for him and set him free;
 the ruler of the nation opened his prison door.” Psalm 105:16-22


I knew the story of Joseph, how his jealous brothers threw him in a well, then sold him as a slave and told his dad a wild animal had killed him. But in the past when I read Joseph’s story, I never saw the overarching purpose. I admit, I assumed Joseph’s ultimate success as Governor of Egypt gave him a reason to laugh in his brothers’ faces. But I had missed something huge. What Joseph’s brothers had intended for his destruction, God intended for Joseph’s refinement, and ultimately, God’s glory. Throughout, God was building Joseph into a man that trusted and desired to know Him.

 “But the LORD was with Joseph and showed him steadfast love and gave him favor in the sight of the keeper of the prison.” Genesis 39:21

 Raised up as Governor of Egypt, Joseph did have an opportunity to laugh in his brothers’ faces. During a great famine, his brothers came to Egypt to buy food. They didn’t recognize him but he knew who they were. The Bible says Joseph had to excuse himself, as to not let them see him “weeping loudly”. When he had regained composure, what he did next just blows my mind.

 “So Joseph said to his brothers, “Come near to me, please.” And they came near. And he said, “I am your brother, Joseph, whom you sold into Egypt. And now do not be distressed or angry with yourselves because you sold me here, for God sent me before you to preserve life.” Genesis 45:4

Seriously, Joseph? Not even a single smack over the head? Not one guilt trip or intentional display of all your prison scars? No, in the midst of his suffering, he had long realized his grand purpose. Through him, God had preserved his chosen people in famine. And when he finally met with the men who deserved nothing but to starve, instead he forgave.

 That night, my outlook on suffering totally changed. God was inviting me to be apart of his grand plan, but first had to get my attention and change my attitude of entitlement. When everything else seemed painfully uncertain in my life, I finally realized the things that are certain: God’s unchanging love for me even in the midst of my sinful anger and Jesus’ willingness to take my sin on himself and his ultimate promise of eternal life where there will be no more tears and pain.

 “God is most glorified in you when you are most satisfied in him. God’s design to pursue his own glory turns out to be love. And our duty to pursue God’s glory turns out to be a quest for joy.” -John Piper

Since that night, I’ve been learning to bring God glory no matter what my circumstances look like. And you know what happens when I do so? A deep, resounding joy fills my life, right down to my soul. I look forward to a day when God will make all things new, including my body.

 “So we’re not giving up. How could we! Even though on the outside it often looks like things are falling apart on us, on the inside, where God is making new life, not a day goes by without his unfolding grace. These hard times are small…compared to the coming good times, the lavish celebration prepared for us. There’s far more here than meets the eye. The things we see now are here today, gone tomorrow. But the things we can’t see now will last forever.”
 2 Corinthians 4:16-18, The Message

My Flesh and My Heart May Fail, Part 1

“My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.”    Psalm 73:25

From my bedroom window, I watched with tears in my eyes. Their cheeks were rosy with youth and eyes sparkling with anticipation. As the day went on I could hear their laughter run up and down the stairs, back and forth past my doorway. I could see out, but did they see in?

It was the first day of summer as my sisters ran through the sprinkler. The smell of hamburgers sizzling on the grill drifted in through my window, but seemed to stop in my room like a rain cloud.  Close by, across the yard, my mom looked up from her basket of bright red tomatoes and smiled at my giggling sisters.  She seemed to sense my wet eyes about to fog up the window, and quickly met them with a look of love that longed for a different summer day. A day when I would be running beside my sisters with just as much life. But that was no where in sight.

I shuffled myself around in bed so as not to have a view of the festivities below. I wanted to blame someone but I knew it wasn’t my mom’s fault. I grabbed my journal and began to feverishly scribble the thoughts thundering in my mind, “Why me?? Don’t you see me? Can’t you hear my crying? Why did it have to be me?” As I beat against His chest with the only strength I had, you know what I heard? Nothing. Except the pounding of my weak, little, 12 year-old heart.

Very slowly, days crept into months. Blazing sores lined my throat, fever raged war against my aching my body and depression hollowed out my insides.

“Oh honey! When you get to heaven you’ll be able to ask God why this happened to you,” I remember hearing a family friend say to me one cold, autumn morning. And I entertained the thought, hoping with all my heart He wouldn’t wait till after I died for my answer.

After too many tight rubber bands wrapped around my arm, nurses who couldn’t find my vein, shirtless echocardiograms, and popsicle sticks stuck down my throat, the diagnosis became definite: Rheumatic Fever.

Rheumatic Fever is a disease that often comes from an untreated or mistreated case of Strep throat, as my condition had stemmed from.  It is an inflammatory disease that can swell the heart, joints, skin, and brain. It’s pretty rare in America.

A few months earlier, I was very sick with Strep throat. When we went to the doctor, she prescribed Amoxicillin, an antibiotic. We later devastatingly realized that Amoxicillin has little effect in my body at fighting the infection. As a result, the Strep morphed into the evil monster, Rheumatic Fever. Once in full swing, this fever can cause severe heart damage or even failure. My Great Aunt had Rheumatic Fever as a child and by age 30 had died due to heart failure. My parents never claimed this fate for me and believed that the Lord had something completely different in store for my little life. It was hard to believe it on days I could barely get out of bed to go to the bathroom. 

After a long 9 months, I began to regain strength. I can’t pinpoint a day that I finally got out of bed. But I do remember one morning, as I grabbed a spoon from the kitchen drawer, I fought to hold back the tears as I squawked at my mom, “Why didn’t you tell me we got a new silverware organizer??” She looked at me with loving patience and then hugged me as I tearfully mumbled that nothing was the same anymore.

I did get better as each year progressed and I began to do a lot of normal things again. The start of high school was wonderfully ordinary. Not wanting to be a Debbie-downer, I didn’t tell most people about my struggling physical condition. My sophomore year, I made a friend who helped me feel hopeful of a healthy future. One day, as we were running laps side by side in P.E. and I was struggling to keep up with the class, I explained what my body had been through in the last few years. I remember how he looked over at me with genuine empathy as I shared my story. I told him I hoped that one day I could be healthy enough to have babies. He told me he hoped so too, probably blushing as he searched for something to say next. He was really sincere for a 15-year-old boy. We soon became good friends. Five years later, he asked me to marry him.

My junior year wasn’t as normal. I got very sick with the flu and other infections that my body wasn’t able to fight like it should have. From chest pains, racing heart, severe digestive issues and muscle pain, I felt like giving up.  I had little energy to leave the house for fun stuff like a date or shopping, so you can imagine how much I struggled getting to school. 

My parents feared there was a possibility my heart had been damaged so we returned to the cardiologist for some tests. Knowing that the majority of people who have Rheumatic Fever walk away with heart valve damage, I was so scared. And then the day came for us to find out. Looking up at the live black and white feed of my heart, lots of questions bounced around my mind. Would I die from heart damage like my Great Aunt? Would my heart ever be strong enough to deliver children? Why isn’t life easier?

The doctor left the room to evaluate what he had seen that day. My mom and I just stared at each other, holding one another’s clammy hand.

When he came back it was hard to decipher his prognosis through broken English and a lack of social skills. All I could make out was, “No damage.”  My mom and I blinked, waiting for more. But upon realizing the weight of what he had just spoken, we began to laugh, unable to contain our joy. To behold the Lord’s handiwork is more beautiful than I have words to describe. Overcome with joy, my heart began to swell (figuratively), resulting in a strong desire to hug this big, awkward man. Needless to say, my mom saw that I needed a hug and embraced me, laughing some more.

I was relieved that God had held my heart throughout those long months, preventing all damage. But I still had so many questions and wondered if I would ever understand why all of this had happened.

  

To be continued!