Unicorns and Rainbows

I have 10,000 things I need to share about, write about, confess, review, etc. as 2013 is ending. Thoughts about weight, heartbreak, loss, victory, starting over, friendship, disappointment, trust, and the like.

2013 was the year of extremes for me. The highest of highs, and the lowest of lows. I am glad to see it end. Sorry to all you optimists out there, but I'm just being real. I realize that "Happiness is a choice!" but sometimes it's impossible to see that choice as an option. I battled loneliness harder in this past year than I ever have before.

So more to come on those topics. Can't wait to get back to this little community here. My honesty seems to stirring something up in people, and I love it. But first thing's first.

My grandmother, Betty Goddard, passed away in August of this year. She was in her 90s, was in hospice, and it wasn't a surprise. She was my last living grandparent, stood no more than 5 feet tall, and was the sassiest relative of them all. She wasn't a very touchy feely, lovey dovey lady, but I knew that she loved me. I just didn't know how sentimental that love actually was.

Over Christmas, my mom gave my brother and I presents that were simply labeled "Memories..." They were bundles of letters that my grandmother had kept from when we were kids and writing actual letters to people was what we did to communicate. (imagine a world without Twitter, Facebook, email, text...yes, that utopia once existed and we took it for granted)

I have never laughed and cried so much at the same time in my life. She kept these...for over twenty years? These silly letters meant so much to her? So I posted some teaser photos of these letters, and there was a request for more. So I picked two of the letters and will type out what I wrote. Out of all the vulnerable and raw things I have posted on this blog, this might be the winner...

Here we go. God help us.

January 4th, 1985 (I was 8) (this is the unicorn letter)

Dear Grandma and Papa,

I'm really having a great time with that neat walkman you gave me. It's really fun going over to my friend's house and listening to our walkmans. It's also handy to listen to it whenever I feel like it. And now I don't have to borrow my mom's or my brother's walkman's!

I'm writing on the lovely unicorn paper that you two gave me. The lovely unicorn and the rainbow on the front of the pad and on the paper.

I'm writing with the "Scripto" pen you gave me to write with. It's really handy to write with because it's erasable. (which you should know!)

I am going to love writing you letters with my beautiful paper, pen, and envelopes. I'll be writing to other faraway friends and family. If you know what I mean! (side note...WHAT DID I MEAN?!)

I sure hope you had a outstanding Christmas and a happy New Year. If you forgot, the new year is 1985. I sure had a great Christmas. I got everything I wanted. Here's the list:

• Barbie Silver 'Vette
• Robot Watch
• Cat Sweatshirt
• Walkman
• Unicorn Pad and Envelope
• Barbie Back Yard Pool Set
• Barbie Gym Set
• Barbie A.T.C.
• Sequent Socks
• Jacket
• Two pairs gloves
• Stool
• Glass people

There are other things, but I can't remember them all. Well, I've got to be going now. Say hi to everyone for me ok? Thanks. Bye Now.

Sincerely Yours,

Elizabeth Simpers

xxxxxxxxoooooooo

xxxxxxxxoooooooo

P.S. Give everyone my loads of love.

Ok, there are a few more, but I will spare you. Wait, maybe just one more. Because it demonstrates how weird I have ALWAYS been.

July 25, 1988 (I was 12)

Dear Grandma and Papa,

I just felt like sayin' "HI!" So, Hi! Well, I have a new kitty, but she ran away. BUT, we found her again!! Her name's Abby. Right now, my Dad's eatin'. Oh, sorry. EA-TING! My dad wants me to say how wonderful I think he is, but I won't.

Grandma, tell Papa about the surprise party. My mom is losing her mind. Yesterday, she thought aliens landed in her bedroom. Also yesterday, she said that she was contacted by Elvis. I was only kidding about Elvis. But she really said that aliens landed in her bedroom. Tommy fell through a barn floor two days ago. He tore some ligaments in his leg. Doctors say they'll have to amputate it. (only kidding about amputation.) My dad wants to cut my foot off because there's a bracelet on it. Most of these comments are false.

My dad was a dog this morning. He was stuck in a closet with Vanna White. That's a joke, also. Have u got enough of these jokes yet? Well, tough cookies!! My brother got his head shaved off by Perry. We call him skinhead, now. We got him a Harely Davidson motorcycle to match his head. He also got a "peace" sign tattooed on his forehead. 

Well, I think you've had enough of these hilarious jokes. So, I better be going now before my mom, dad, and Tommy kill me. Love your granddaughter,

Liz

XXOO

P.S. WRITE ME, PLEASE.

Enjoy these other letters and most embarrassing moments. I know you will appreciate my genius even more after you read them. Extra points if you can find the one that 8 year old Liz explains to my grandma what "leverage" is.

-Liz

When did "work" become a dirty word?

Don't worry, I was just walking. The blur is deceiving.

A friend just sent me an email asking what the heck was going on with me because I haven't posted a blog since my surgery last week. Was I better? Did it work? Am I healed?

Yes. Yes. HELL yes. So far.

Surgery was Tuesday of last week, and yesterday, I was back at work and walked two miles on the treadmill. Progress. Considering two weeks ago, I couldn't stand up without pain, without leaning on something, without taking prescription pain medicine.

I feel great. My recovery was short, but not that sweet. I just get so bored when I can't work, can't have a routine, and the biggest question of the day is if I'm going to watch Scandal or read a book. It was really depressing for a few days there, not being able to do much. And God, in his glory, knows what I can handle. I am not someone that could handle 6 weeks of couch time. Not at all. I could barely handle a week!

Coming back to work was amazing. Coming back to a life of purpose was fantastic. It reminded me that work is GOOD. It is a good thing and it is a necessary thing. We are created to fulfill purpose in so many ways, and work is one of them. There is a rhythm to life and I was really out of whack for a LONG time before surgery. Not able to do anything or go anywhere really because I had no relief from pain.

The things I have learned from this process are yet to be determined because there are just so many. To read back through my journal where I ask God to heal my body day after day, week after week, and in His timing, he did just that. I can't believe I am pain free. This is the first time in years that I can say that.

So I am back to work, and after my next doctor's appointment, I hope to be cleared to work out. When did "work" become a dirty word? I hope I never again take for granted that I have a healthy mind and a healthy body. Both of these things are created for the purpose of good work.

"Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving." - Colossians 3:23-24

I can be scrubbing toilets or sitting in a cubical or driving a bus or running an Ace Hardware (shout out to Mr. Ace himself Tyler Bottke) - wherever I am, whatever I do, I have the choice to work for the Lord. And I am so thankful to have a chance to start over, every day.

Back to work.

-Liz

Baby's first steps

Up at 5am. Hobbled into the shower on my dead leg for what I hoped would be the last time. Made a green smoothie for later. My friends Hannah and Austin came early to pick me up. Drove to Capital City Surgical Center and waited.

While we were outside waiting for the place to open up, we got to see a helicopter land at Wake Med. A fun distraction that took me outside of my anxious brain. A hug from God.

To get ready for surgery, Hannah came back for me while I got prepped. The nurse's name was Martha. It was 6:30 am and Hannah and I made that lady LAUGH. She talked about her gynecologist named Cinnamon. Yes, it was that kind of conversation. A fun distraction that took me outside of my anxious brain. A hug from God.

Surgery happened. I guess. I wouldn't know, they could have taken me up in that helicopter for a ride and I wouldn't have remembered. I woke up and in about an hour, was lucid enough to realize that I am lying on my back without pain.

How is this possible?

Pain really is relative. Everyone had a different tolerance and it is impossible to feel what someone else feels. I experienced that loneliness for the past 4-6 months, and to lay in that hospital bed without pain in my back and leg was bizarre. All of a sudden, those 6 months of loneliness had the potential to
be over.

A hug from God.

So now I am home. And we have already walked across the street in the neighboring church parking lot. You might have missed an important verb in that last sentence. I walked. And I can stand. And I have hope.

I have also really, REALLY learned that I am a terrible patient. I HATE asking for help. It was so hard for me accept the fact that I have friends that want to help me. I am surrounded by people that love me so much, and I had no idea how much. I've gotten texts, calls, books, gifts, food, prayer, and company.

Hugs from God.

I am so thankful. And in the meantime, enjoy these ridiculous
photos and videos of my big day.

The Facebook Hug

Surgery on Tuesday. And struggling today. Some days are good, some days are bad. Today is one bad day. Physically I feel awful. Emotionally I am a hot mess. I think I have cried like... 4 times today? Maybe more.

What I've realized about pain is that you can't compare it or relate to it in someone else. We all have different tolerances, different experiences, and different emotions. I feel about as different as I can be from most people. If I were any more different, I might start being more similar (you know that old "east to west" analogy).

In the past few days, I have had people sharing similar back surgery stories with me. And they range all the way from "it was the miracle I was looking for" to "it took me a year and a half to walk again and I wish I had never done it."

Can you see why I am so emotional?

But God gave me the hug I needed in the form of a facebook message from an old high school friend. Reminder: I could not feel MORE useless than I do today:

hey Liz, ben thinking about you while you are getting ready for surgery on Tuesday. Praying all goes well for you and that you get some relief from your pain. I wanted to let you know that after you posted that blog/message/whatever you want to call it at the beginning of September, I was finally ready to admit that I needed help with my weight loss. I joined weight watchers within an hour of reading your post. I have already lost 4o pounds, and my life and lifestyle and so much improved. What's better, is that my motivation got my husband to join too. He is down 50 pounds, and soon will be out of the 300's. I am so proud of the steps he has taken, and I feel so liberated myself. I suffer from chronic migraines, the meds I take make me feel sluggish and still do oot give me 100% relief. But, for the first time I feel like I am not a victim of my problems, I am in charge, and roll with the punches and get back up. I just wanted you to know the magnitude of your words. You have truly helped me and my husband find the tools we needed to do this. Thank you so much! Wishing you all the best with your surgery.

Wow. Do we realize that we are light even in our darkest of days?

If you are a praying person, would you pray for me on Tuesday? The thought of this surgery not working is too much for me to bear right now. Ok, now I'm crying for the 5th time today. I just need a win here. I wish I had never taken my work outs for granted.

Stay tuned, and I will update with GOOD news soon.

And it will be good. Scratch that. Great.

-Liz

Thankful. (but not for Thanksgiving)

Today is one of my least favorite days of the year.

Wait, let me explain.

I am a thankful person. A VERY thankful person. But I don't like thanksgiving all that much. We get together, we eat a lot, we complain a lot, we shop a lot, we spend a lot.

It's...a lot.

This year I have much to be thankful for. God is about to move me out of the waiting room and into surgery. Next Tuesday actually. This has been about a year in the making, and a really painful last three months of little sleep, restlessness, and pain.

But with all that pain has come a lot of reflection. A lot of questions for God, and a hell of a lot of surrender. It is hard for me to surrender my love for food. I just have such a deep relationship with food, that I struggle to let it go. Once again, a reason I wrestle with Thanksgiving.

I have found joy in the simple things I've always loved. Music is one of them. I have been working to convert my guest room into a music room. Today I picked up a drum set, which was my last big piece of the puzzle. My friend had a word for a room like this: her "happy room." So I filled this room with things that make me happy: a comfortable reading chair, books, drums, guitars, art. Beautiful things that bring me peace.

I spend a lot of my time trying to be someone I'm not. Trying to impress others. Trying to find eloquent words to express myself when simple words would sound better. I am so hopeful for life after back surgery. I will walk, I will swim, I will bike, and one day...

I will run again.

-Liz

The waiting room.

Today I had my MRI review with my back doctor. My prayer this morning: "God, please give me hope and progress and an answer. Please."

Today I welcomed hope and progress and an answer.

Two herniated disks means surgery. Most likely next week. This has been a year long ordeal for me. Managing the pain. Waiting. Getting injured. Pushing it. Running. Hurting. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

What have I learned from the waiting room? Sometimes the things I learn in the waiting room are more important than the things I'm waiting for.

God is faithful. In pain. God is faithful. In joy. I have run the gamut. I have cried, laughed, hurt, and experienced all of it. And finally, relief is coming. I am completely blown away. I am loved by so many and have been so encouraged by so many of you. You have been my lifeline in the midst of this rainy season.

I have also learned that a lot of us are in a lot of pain. And most of us keep it private. I'm not sure why. Fear? Probably. But really, being honest on this blog thing has broken down a lot of barriers for people and I hope that keeps happening in big, scary, amazing ways.

So if you're in the waiting room right now, I'm sitting with you. And God has put us here together. Don't forget.

-Liz

How long?

I waited patiently for the Lord;
he inclined to me and heard my cry.
² He drew me up from the pit of destruction,
out of the miry bog,
and set my feet upon a rock,
making my steps secure.
³ He put a new song in my mouth,
a song of praise to our God.
Many will see and fear,
and put their trust in the Lord.      
-Psalm 40

There is a U2 song called "40" that borrows heavily from this Psalm. The chorus sings "How long to sing this song? How long?"

So here it is, 2:30 am on a Tuesday, and I have this song, this psalm, in my head.

Have you ever gone through something that, at first, a lot of people rallied around you and wanted to help but they just couldn't? Inherently, once people don't know how to help, they stop trying to help. This is no fault of their own, it's just human nature. See, if we don't know how to help, we think we are just - helpless, so we move on to the next manageable way that we CAN be of service to someone.

I am in that zone. My back injury has been happening since summer, and it's been severe for about two months now. Severe means can't exercise. Can't walk. Can't sleep. Can't stand. I have become completely reliant on God. I have no other choice. And sometimes, I feel like I have no other help.

Tomorrow I have an MRI, and I have hope again. Nothing else has worked. I have spent a lot of time, energy, money, and emotion looking for relief for my back and my leg. I dream of running again. Heck, right now, I dream of standing in the lobby of our YMCA and having a conversation with someone without needing to sit down or lean on something.

How long?

I have learned a lot about perspective in the past six months. I have also learned that there is a lot of private pain that goes on in the people around me every single day. And if my situation might speak to someone else's situation, I am grateful. The good news here, is that this season won't last forever. Even though it feels like a lifetime since I have been pain free.

I remember my dad once telling me, in a tear-filled conversation: "Lizzie, this is just your rainy season. And it won't rain forever."

Is this your rainy season? While we might be asking God "how long?" He might be trying to tell us - "Not forever."

-Liz