... I've learned that when older people say things like "at least you have your health" or "don't take your health for granted" ... it's true.

No; I'm not 23 years old.  (Shocking, I know.)  However, for those of you have very little going on in your life and have kept up with mine, I have gone from a serotonin level of 7 to 23!  Normal is somewhere between 50 and 200 ... so we are making progress!

Back in the day, when you would receive Christmas cards in the mail with the yearly newsletter cataloging every detail of ones life, we received a letter from an "older" couple.  Their two-paged epic novel was chalk-full of health details ... very explicit health details that were frankly ... frightening.  In an effort to keep myself out of the "older couple who share frightening health details" category, this will not be a blog about my health.  Rather, it will be a blog of ... pondering what I've learned through my health.

I hate to be weak.  I think it stems from my later childhood/early adulthood.  My mother was sick for many years with a disease called Lupus.  She was unable to commit to much, had little energy, and often found herself in the hospital for long stays at a time.  I didn't look at her any differently, I just knew that I never wanted to be like her.

During the last 6 weeks, how often I have thought of my Mother.  For I, too, have been unable to commit to much, have had little energy( but thank God have not found myself in the hospital ... but rather some days in my bed ... for long stays at a time).  Here's the deal ... I've looked at myself differently.

Weakness is such a state of mind.  As I'm emerging from what seems to have been a physical cocoon, I am thinking that this being weak thing is not so bad, after all.  Being weak always takes the focus off ourselves.  I am selfish.  I like to be noticed for what I accomplish, applauded for how cute I am, and praised for doing something well.  There, I said it.  Now, if you are honest, don't you?

What being weak does is keep you raw ... and honest ... and not so cute.  I am reminded that who I am is never determined by what I do.  I know that doesn't make sense to most of the world around me ... and often I have trouble keeping that truth before me ... but it's truth.  I am not what I do.  I am what I am.

This week, when I wanted to put all the Christmas decorations up, impress my girls by the holiday cheer I could throw about the house in preparation for the holidays ... I just didn't have it in me.  Instead, I made cocoa.  Parker, my artist and Libby, my entertainer and I sat around the kitchen table watching "Frosty the Snowman" and cut out paper snowflakes.  I made some yummy hot cocoa ... and dazzled them with a sprinkling of candy cane I had been saving ... and that was the extent of my holiday cheer.



You know what?  It was honest, pure and simple.  Had I been "up", I would have been grouchy from working so hard on the house ... irritated that no one appreciated all my hard work ... and tired from my labor.  Instead, we laughed and sipped hot cocoa.  When will I ever learn ... that it's the simple things ... that really make living ... living.

Learning ... and being weak,
Christina

Dreary days.  With the time change, it gets darker earlier (around 4:15 ish).  Grey weather has made its grand entrance center stage in our lives in Vienna.  There is that old familiar chill in our flat, the one that begs to be treated by fuzzy socks and more layers of clothing.  You can tell on the faces of strangers that everyone has buckled down for the dreary days ahead.  Warmer coats, thicker scarves, and a stronger resolve hovers in the air as everyone knows that  many more months of darker, colder, wetter days lay ahead.

However, before we all need to pop a Prozac, there is the “upside” of these Dreary Days.  I’ve always been one to swim a little up stream.  Finding a reason to celebrate among the grey is an exciting challenge and one not so hard to do here!   Dreary Days mean roasted chestnut (Maroni) and Potato wedge vendors make their debut in little huts on street corners to warm your hands and make your belly happy.  Dreary Days also mean more cups of coffee in cooler cafés.  Dreary Days also mean more invitations to dinner over warm bowls of Pumpkin (Kurbis) soup.

During this beginning phase of the Dreary season, we’ve experienced a retreat with university students in a charming retreat house in the mountains, hosted a celebration for our friend, Thomas, as he complete his masters studies, watched many Alfred Hitchcock movies, popped more than enough homemade popcorn and enjoyed an entire week of no school as we celebrated fall break with the girls.  Dreary Days need not be all that … dreary … after all.

As I rest, with the perfect timing of vacation and the necessity of doing so to the aforementioned serotonin levels that are deficient in my little brain (see last week’s blog) … dreary is good.  Dreary Days seem to be such a good reminder of God’s economy.  When all is well, it’s so easy to be so … self-reliant.  Not to jump on any band wagon or stand on any proverbial soap box, but our society admires self-reliance.  Self-made men, working mothers who balance work, motherhood and extra’s, pull yourself up by the boot straps kind of people … all are elevated to super human, role models … those we should all try to imitate.  Nothing wrong with the hero models we worship … but are we worshipping the right kind of hero?

I find it so encouraging to read of Paul, and of his accounts of being weak so that Christ’s strength can be fully seen.  Funny how those attributes of Paul are sought after when we find ourselves at the end of our rope … when we are weak.  It’s hard to fully appreciate the weakness when we feel ourselves to be strong.

This morning, as I sat in my chair in my room, overlooking the other apartment building covered in vines that are flaming red, orange and yellow, reflecting the beauty of the dreary days ... sipping my coffee, reading my Bible, I felt such a great strength in being so … quiet … and so weak.  There is something beautiful and humbling in being … weak.  Weak reminds me of these, the Dreary Days.

During the highlight of summer, when my body is tan and serotonin levels are bursting at the seams from the full advantage of vitamin-D levels made incredibly high to absorbing as much sunlight as possible, dreary seems unbearable.  During the hay days of summer, when it seems unthinkable to stay bundled up in fleece and wrapped in layers, dreary seems uncomfortable.

Then, as the natural rhythm of life keeps on beating, dreary becomes somehow … natural.  What was feared and dreaded becomes … normal.

If the Dreary Days make me appreciate the summer, then I’m gonna try to let this season of “dreary” (my weakness) remind me of the grace, the peace, the strength of being a child of God.  A child that is well protected loved and cared for during summer and dreary.  My weakness is never a sign of weakness of my Father … in fact just a clearer picture of the Might I allow to go unnoticed.  I do stand amazed at the wonder … at the strength of an all-powerful God … who is delighted in my weakness.  It’s an opportunity for me to see clearer and be stronger … being more true to who He is and who I am not.  I am the child.  He is the Father.  He is God.  I am not.  Weak is strong.  Dreary is OK.

Now, if you will excuse me, I'm gonna go find my fuzzy socks, pop some more popcorn, and just sit and enjoy ... the Dreary!

For years, I have had a long standing relationship with Anxiety. The road has become a journey. The journey has become an adventure. The adventure has shaped me into the person who I am today. If my adventure was a book, there would be chapters about fear, chapters about learning to ignore the fear, chapters about coping with feelings, chapters about rest, chapters about taking medication, chapters about not taking medication, chapters about hearing or not hearing God in the middle of anxiety, but most of all.... there would be chapters about how I've learned to see God better, hear him clearer and see him more truthfully right smack dab in the middle of what I have now embraced as a friend, Anxiety.

For the most part, the ugly part of Anxiety is gone. As I age (I hate saying that), Anxiety is almost a fading memory of someone that I used to know. I will carry the lessons it taught me but will no longer carry the pain it desired for me.

So, recently I shared that I had some health stuff come up. Turns out, I started having more symptoms. Only this time, they weren't related to what we thought the root cause was ... weird.

To make a rather long story short, and to give a larger audience a clearer picture of what is going on with me ... I just found out this week that I have a "dangerously" low level (my doctor's words, not mine) of Serotonin. Normal is between 50 and 200. Mine is 7.

Serotonin does a lot of stuff for us. One of the things it does is control mood. So, my doctor was as surprised as I was to find out the culprit of my issues. I think it's safe to say that God has done a brilliant miracle!! I was/have not been exhibiting any signs of depression or anxiety. At this point, with a level of 7, most suffers of low Serotonin are in the fetal position and having a hard time functioning in life. To me ... this is just the best news since finding out I can watch Designing Women on YouTube!

Serotonin feeds neurotransmitters. Neurotransmitters make the body function properly. I am not a medical professional nor do I play one on T.V. Everything I have found out has come from my doctor or Google. But, we've come to discover that my increasing symptoms of difficulty breathing, headaches, fatigue, rapid heart rate, fluctuating temperatures ... all a sign of my low Serotonin.

Left undiagnosed, patients can be diagnosed as suffers of Chronic Fatigue Syndrome or Fibromyalgia. The symptoms are/can be the same. Thank goodness I have a doctor who is thorough and checked out every little thing in my blood!

Now, I wait for high-power vitamins to kick-in. I try to rest when I am tired (which feels like most of the time). I try to reduce stress. Stress is the sucker of Serotonin. Anyone who has a real life and doesn't live in a bubble cannot live without stress. We'll see how that goes...

The biggest thing going through this? Feeling like my children are missing out because Mom is tired or sick all the time. Worrying about not meeting demands of a "job" that could negatively impact me.

Here's what I'm learning to do about my biggest worries ... let them go. I have beautiful, wonderful, caring children who will be fine! Because I buy cookies when I wanted to make them, order pizza ... twice ... OK, three times during the week because I am too tired to cook ... it's not gonna negatively impact them. What they are gonna see is a Momma who invites them to cuddle on the couch and watch a movie ... again. What they are gonna see is a Momma who is honest ... and is gonna tell them that I don't like the way I feel ... but know it's not always gonna be like this. What they are gonna see is a Momma who is gonna conserve energy and save it for doing stuff with them and not get stressed out about work goals that aren't being met ... or expectations that aren't being achieved.

I'm learning that God is pleased with me when I am obedient to Him. If that means letting my worries go and popping more popcorn because I don't have the energy, mentally or physically, to move ... then that's what I am supposed to do. I am tired of the thing inside my brain that tells me I am wasting time if I am not producing. It's overdue for that old thinking to go away.

So ... if you are a praying person and you are reading this ... pray that I will rest and that my Serotonin levels will increasingly rise.

Chris always asks me this ... "How is your heart? Are you at peace today?" My answer: "Yep!" My heart (physically and emotionally) is good ... and I am at peace!  Just like my old friend Anxiety ... I think Serotonin will teach me more of learning to see God better, hear him clearer and see him more truthfully right smack dab in the middle of what I am going through now .