Finding Jesus (Always)

I have a Nativity which I've had since I was a little girl. It is nothing special but I love it. It brings back childhood memories. Every year I display it somewhere accessible. I want the kids to be able to play with it, touch it like I did when I was young. Every year something gets broke and we have to super glue it back together. This year, it was one of the wise men. His hands holding his gift broke off and he is waiting repair in the kitchen. And every year Baby Jesus goes missing, sometimes more than once. He is small, smaller than my thumb. But he's always found.
I was thinking how metaphorical this feels for me right now. Every year, I have to consciously look for Jesus. It seems that though this holiday is supposed to be about Him, He is easily lost. It seems that each year, I feel less in the spirit. This year has been very hard. I've felt very convicted about the commercialism of the holiday. And the money spent on my family when we really don't need anything. Brett and I decided not to exchange gifts. We spent that money we would have used for ourselves to buy chickens and rabbits through the Gospel for Asia catalog. But still. I still feel empty. Shopping isn't as fun as it has been in years passed. I feel burdened and heavy with other's pain.
But I think this is where I'm supposed to be. Maybe Christmas isn't merry. Maybe it's an ache for Jesus and we feel it all the more this time of year. It becomes more evident, our need for Him when we're surrounded by the carols, the shopping, the giftwrap, that there's so much more. That we have drowned out his voice. Everyday I need to look for Him in the chaos. Remember that without Him there is not a Christmas or a nativity. Mary and Joseph, the remaining wise men, right now, on my piano, they are all looking off in different directions as if even they, ceramic, know there is something missing. They yearn. Why are they there if not for him?
He is somewhere here. I have to find him.

12/5/11

In response to Mama's Losin It Prompt: Blast from the past


Wow.  It's been quite the year.  Last Christmas we were still in cold country.  We were still.... a lot of things that we no longer seem to be.

And still, I am looking for Jesus.

Somewhere before our move to Phoenix, I found baby Jesus from that old nativity set.  I put him in my pocket.  Maybe not the smartest move but it seemed like a good idea at the time. I thought that from there, I had placed him in my jewelry box for safe keeping but alas, he is again not to be found. And so as we were setting up the nativity this year, I explained to my kids that the baby was missing once again.  Well, lo and behold, a few days later they found a replacement baby Jesus from a box with a different nativity.

So that one lasted a couple of hours.

The two little ones fought over him (yes, over Jesus) and he broke.  Baby Jesus is in two pieces. Wow, even that is symbolic isn't it? He is the bread, broken.

And, too, Joseph's head is off as are some of the wise men.  Thank the Lord for super glue.  But even that might mean something, as anyone involved in the birth of Christ had to be broken enough to receive him, to submit to His will, His glorious plan.

And this season, I am broken.  I am still searching for Jesus. Advent has a very personal meaning this year. This waiting on Him.   Maybe Christmas isn't merry. Maybe it's an ache for Jesus and we feel it all the more this time of year....Mary and Joseph, the remaining wise men, right now... they are all looking off in different directions as if even they, ceramic, know there is something missing. They yearn. Why are they there if not for him? 


This year I feel so much is missing.  Might I remember that Jesus is who I'm really looking for, who I'm to yearn for. The ache I feel can be relieved by Him alone.

Mary's Song:


 And Mary said:

   “My soul glorifies the Lord
 ⁴⁷ and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
⁴⁸ for he has been mindful
   of the humble state of his servant.
From now on all generations will call me blessed,
 ⁴⁹ for the Mighty One has done great things for me—
   holy is his name.
⁵⁰ His mercy extends to those who fear him,
   from generation to generation.
⁵¹ He has performed mighty deeds with his arm;
   he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts.
⁵² He has brought down rulers from their thrones
   but has lifted up the humble.
⁵³ He has filled the hungry with good things
   but has sent the rich away empty.
⁵⁴ He has helped his servant Israel,
   remembering to be merciful
⁵⁵ to Abraham and his descendants forever,
   even as he said to our fathers.” -Luke 1:46-55

First Pull From the Archives

The why of why I write, written because I read Ann VosKamp in the morning and her writings remind me of why I want to write, why I should be bold enough to do so and make me wonder why I lose my focus, meaning my understanding that all I do should be for His glory. I don't seek to be a teacher. I seek to be God's student. If it is in writing that I am able to do this, I will. But I want not to strive, and I too easily get caught in striving. I seek to please, but forget who it is I'm pleasing. And so I find most my writings on this blog seem apologetic. Because I still trust too much in myself and not enough in God. I question all motives when I feel His voice is drowned out. I desire peace and the knowledge that He will not let me stumble if I allow Him to direct my ways. This is His promise to me. Do I believe it? Do I even understand it? Why do I always feel so stuck in the middle? The middle to me means uncertainty, stagnancy, the inability to make a move of any sort. How do I find the freedom Christ wants for me and balance it with the certainty that I'm in His will? I don't have these answers yet.

God, could my writing be used, then, as a journey toward these answers, toward new revelations, toward rest in You? Could my whole day be one of praise because it is in praise when I most feel Your presence and the safety it brings. It is in the noises of this world I feel shaky and lost. I want to hear Your voice more than any other.

Something as holy as these holidays we're coming up upon, throws me off. How is that? How has it become about Black Friday and meals and wish lists? For me? When I hear you remind me that this world is not my home, when I know your desires for me do not come from the busy places here, but in the quiet places of the heart. Why do I fight these earthly desires when the knowledge You've given me shows me that these desires don't bring peace? And so this fear overtakes because I don't trust myself in this world, to enter out and not be consumed. God my prayer today and this season, which is Yours, is that You would keep me hidden, protect me from myself.

Oh, when the days don't go right. When I don't wake up early and prayerfully ask God to guide my day, when my failures expose themselves to me over and over, just in the mundane parenting tasks of a Saturday. How can I raise these children? For they are not mine. They are His and this is a difficult job. It is not lack of love, but lack of discipline on my part. I pray today for God to give me grace and patience and joy in what He has called me to. Again, I see so clearly the need for self to be eradicated. If it were not me, but Him living in me would these screams of theirs grate on me as much, would I feel overwhelmed just by the simple duty of getting them all dressed and ready, would I feel outnumbered or would God multiply my loaves and give me strength for the day? He would. He says we shall mount up on wings like eagles, there will be rest for the weary. Today I feel like it's all too much, like I wasn't cut out but these are lies. God, let me see Your truth. Let me accept Your peace, the peace which surpasses all understanding. You say You will not withhold wisdom and I desperately need it. I need it just to believe that You believe in me.

I gave up blogging a while back. My last post is proof that I had gotten snotty and angry in my posts. I didn't want to use my blogging as an excuse just to puke on people. And I questioned openly my motivations for blogging. I am back because of my own journey for significance. I have found my answer and it is an answer I know I will need to be reminded of time and again. My significance is in God. I am hidden in Christ. If you do not see in me only Christ and see, rather, me, then I am failing God. I want to be significant in the world's eyes. I worry about silly things like whether my blog has pictures on it. About whether anyone cares about what I have to say. I worry about whether I'll ever publish a book and will it be recognized. I worry about what I put on facebook. This is embarassing but it is true. I go to the blog A Holy Experience and I am blessed. I see Christ. I am brought to Christ. Am I to do this too? Bring people not to me, but to Christ? I know I am. Why do I worry about what I reveal about myself when I need to reveal God's grace and love only? So I am back. But it is not me. It will be Christ through me. If I fail in this, then I will back off again until I can return to what He calls me.

Another Testimony Citing the Evils of the Pharmaceuticals and Insurance Companies

I am going to document my recent encounters with the pharmacy, my insurance, and my doctor's office for venting purposes and also in case I need to provide a true account someday in a court of law, as a defense on why I either murdered someone in the aforementioned groups, or why the aforementioned groups should pay me damages.

I have been newly diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. Around the time of diagnosis, I was given a prescription for a drug called Provigil. It is an anti narcoleptic medication but also used in patients who suffer from neurological disorders, to help treat their fatigue.

I will not bore you with the details about my fatigue before I started taking this medication. I will just tell you that once I was on it, I felt that I had reentered the land of the living. When I filled my prescription, I was forewarned by the pharmacist, that they could fill it this time but next time would need authorization from my insurance company. You can decide for yourself whether that is fair. But I knew that there could be a problem. It is an expensive drug.

So, when I got down to about six pills, I called in my prescription. Two days later, I called the pharmacy, just to make sure there were no problems, and to make sure that my prescription would be there waiting for me later that afternoon.

“Oh,” the pharmacy aid or whatever she's called said, “Your insurance denied this.”

“Um, Okay, Why didn't you guys call me and let me know?” I asked.

Now her snotty voice came on. I think they practice this, and it proves the point that many, many people do not like their jobs, or at any rate, the part of their jobs which involves dealing with the public. “We just got the fax, yesterday.”

I decided not to point out that seeing how it was now today, and I was calling her, someone could in fact have called me. I just asked her what the solution to this obvious problem was.

She said that my insurance company had said I must try this other medication for sixty days. And then if it didn't work, they may...or may not allow me to have my Provigil. She said that my doctor had received this same fax, and so he would call in the prescription for this other drug.

“Fine, I said, “but just in case there's any problem with that new prescription, how much would it cost me out of pocket, to buy a few of my Provigil pills to get me through?

“Provigil isn't a pill,” she stated.

“What?,” Ok, deep breaths, “Provigil.” I said again, enunciating.

“Oh, Provigil.”

Great, now that after fifteen minutes we're on the same flipping page. Anyway, I bought six pills at the whopping price of $44.

The next day, I called my doctor's office and was informed that my doctor would be out of town for a week but that some other doctor could call me in that prescription.

Great. I was also assured that this alternate medication would really work quite comparably but was just much cheaper.

So, I go to pick up my new prescription, and ask the pharmacist, just because I like to take polls, if this would in fact, work the same. He told me no. No. They are not even in the same ballpark. Lovely.

I get home and begin to read the info about this drug. It is to help with my neuron function and help me exercise. Ok, no. I need to be able to stay awake. But, I think, maybe they know something I don't. I'll just call my insurance company and ask them nicely to explain, what the f- they think they're doing, but of course in much nicer terms.

So, I call my insurance. They must have been pissing a lot of people off that day, because I was on hold for a while. Finally, I talk to someone and she is very nice and she tells me to just have my doctor call their pre-authorization line and explain why I need to be on Provigil, that it is for fatigue. She said that they (the insurance company) probably didn't know that.

Yay! We're getting somewhere. So, I call my doctor's office. The nurse gets on the phone and has such a rude attitude about talking to me, that I decide to ask her if we could just be nice to each other. I then explain what my insurance company had told me.

“You want me to call them today?” she asks, as if I'm really putting her out.

No, just whenever you feel like getting around to it, I think, sarcastically. But I say, “Well, I'm pretty low on my medication and so, yeah, that would be nice.

We get off the phone and five minutes later she calls me back. She announces that she just got off with my insurance company and they said, “ABSOLUTELY NOT.”

Whose side are you on, lady? Then she asks me who I talked to. I don't know and so she says, “Yes, well, no one over there even remembers talking to you.”

Well maybe they have ms too, I want to say, but instead I just quietly wait for her to get to her point. I also decide that she and I are in a full blown fight. Now that my insurance company has convinced this nurse that I was on the wrong stuff to begin with, she attempts to convince me. She says, “You know, this is what your doctor prescribed you.”

“No it's not. My doctor prescribed Provigil. My insurance company then said I have to take this Amantacrap stuff and some on call doctor called that in!” I'm losing my cool a little bit by now.

“You have, what, ms? No, not ms, right? What do you have?”

“Uh, yeah. I have ms.” I say, breathing deeply and slowly.

“Ok, well, Amantacrap is often given to people w/ ms for fatigue.” she says.

“The bottle says 'may cause drowsiness!'” I exclaim.

“Well, everybody's body is different.”

I don't bother to tell her that just in case my body is one of the bodies that gets drowsy from this Amantacrap, then um, what's the point in taking it.

Maybe sensing my frustration, she says, “It's too bad you don't live closer. You could come and get some samples of the Provigil.”

Lady, I would drive across country to get some samples. I will be there Monday.

Anyway, bottom line, I have to try this stuff and fail, before someone can call the insurance company again on my behalf. I admit, that after reading through all the information about Amantacrap, I might now be biased on how it works. It says to not operate a vehicle or doing anything else requiring alertness until I know that I am able to do so while taking this medication. It also says 'many' people do not have such and such side effects. 'Many'? It's supposed to say 'most'. I know. I read these things. This is like the new drug that's out and I don't know what it's called or what it's for, I've just heard the commercial say, 'May cause suicide'. Not, 'May cause suicidal thoughts.' Just, 'May cause suicide'. I guess the thought part of suicide gets bypassed.

And what happens when these idiots start messing with psych patient's drugs? Like the guy taking anti-psychotics or the schizophrenic. Can you just imagine his phone call to the insurance company? “Yeah, you know how you denied my anti-voice drug? Well, the voices are back, and they're telling me to kill YOU!”

My solution is that everybody working for either an insurance company or a pharmaceutical outfit needs to either have suffered a serious illness themselves or have a close family member who has. That should be the top job requirement. And as for the nurses – don't go into a profession just because it's a guaranteed job in a tough economy. If you don't like people, why don't you do medical coding. Yep, if I was in charge of the health care bill, that's where I'd start.

Letter to God

Dear God,

I don't mind going to the desert place but you'll have to point me in the right direction. Might I remind you that the desert has neither snow nor corn. I've lived in a literal desert and it was never this lonely. This place I'm in now is cold and wet, and feels more like hell than anywhere I've been. Am I lost? Could you remind me why I'm here? I'd like to go home now to where the sun shines, bringing needed energy, and I had something I think you forgot to give me here - friends! (When I say forgot, I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt) So, thanks in advance, for a soon deliverance.

Your faithful, grumbling servant,
Nicole
P.S. If this is my desert, please don't make me stay another thirty-seven years. I meant 'soon' in human terms.