"Whatever It takes..." (Part Two)

One night, pretty soon after the official diagnosis, I was watching "Saving Milly", a television movie based on the life of a woman who had Parkinson's Disease (PD). Needless to say, it was difficult to watch the deterioration of a life over the course of several years all boiled down into two hours - knowing that that was my disease now, too. But at one point in the movie, Milly cried out in total frustration, "Why?! Why is God punishing me? What did I do that was so bad?" Almost immediately, something welled up from within my heart that made me want to reach through that television screen and take her face in my hands, and say to her, "No, Milly, no - God is not punishing you! God loves you! And He wants to help you!"

And then I realized - the reason that I felt that response in my heart, and felt it so strongly - was because that was what God was trying to tell me.

From that point on, I began looking in the right place for answers - His Word. God began to show me promise after promise after promise that were mine to claim, in spite of PD. And as my eyes started to lift to the One who was truly able to help me - oh, I began to grow in Him! The first promise was this one from the book of Isaiah, and it will always be a very special verse to me...

"Do not fear, for I am with you;
Do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you, surely I will help you;
Surely I will uphold you with my righteous right hand."
(Isaiah 41:10)

"Anxiously looking about me" pretty much sums up what I had been doing. But now, God, through His Word, was starting to give me His perspective - and it was very different from my own. The lessons continued...

The reality of having PD, with all of its symptoms, its difficulties, its prognosis - does not change the truth of God's Word -

"For I know the plans that I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope." (Jeremiah 29:11)

This I recall to my mind, therefore I have hope. The Lord's lovingkindnesses indeed never cease, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; Great is Thy faithfulness,"The Lord is my portion," says my soul,"therefore I have hope in HIm."(Lamentations 3:21-24)

Although I am so thankful for knowledgable doctors, skilled surgeons, incredibly effective medications, and all the knowledge and skill and determination of researchers and scientists - my hope is not in man, medicine, procedures, research, or even a cure. And although I know that God, the Creator, the One who formed me, is able to heal me - my hope is not in His healing.

My hope - is in Him.

This is my own personal version of Psalm 20:7 -

"Some trust in doctors and medicine, and some in research and a cure; But I will trust in the name of the Lord, my God."

The lessons continued, and they still continue today. But after the diagnosis, my initial reaction, and a few months of "lessons learned" - there was a very special lesson, an "aha!" moment, a "moment of clarity" that I will never forget. During a Sunday morning sermon on Psalm 23, specifically the last part of verse 4 ("Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me."), our Pastor was explaining how a shepherd would use his rod to wound a wayward, stubborn sheep - one that kept wandering off. Then, he would carry that wounded sheep around on his shoulders (because the sheep could not walk on its own), everywhere they went, and care for that sheep's every need - until the sheep was healed of its wounds. And when the shepherd finally set that sheep back on its own feet, that once wayward, stubborn sheep - who used to continually wander off - stayed at his shepherd's side from that point on, even though it had the use of its legs again, and could go anywhere it wanted. It had grown to love the shepherd, and the sound of his voice, so much, that it never left his side again.

I listened to that sermon, and the tears started pouring down my face as I realized - that's me. That's what Jesus has done to me - and He is carrying me on His shoulders, and I am learning to love Him, and the sound of His voice, like I never have before. And I never, ever, want to leave His side again.

And then I remembered that prayer, spoken what seemed like so long ago..."Whatever it takes, Lord...whatever it takes..."

I meant it then, and I still do now.

I am safe in His hands.

"My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me; and I give eternal life to them, and they shall never perish, and no one shall snatch them out of My hand." (John 10:27-28)

"Whatever it takes..." (Part One)

Those three words changed my life.

My heart was thirsty. I had been a Christian since childhood, but there was a deep longing for something more. Something was missing. And although I did not know exactly what it was that I needed, I knew exactly what I needed to do. I prayed. I surrendered. I put my life in His hands, and said, "Father, whatever it takes...whatever it takes to make me completely Yours...I want You to do it."

The shaking began very mildly, very intermittantly, and only at certain times. For instance, when I was playing the piano, and my right foot would be on the damper pedal, all of a sudden my right leg would start to shake. It only happened every once in awhile. I attributed it to a pinched nerve, or some such nuisance, and pretty much ignored it. Then, several months later, my right arm began to shake. Again, it was only every once in a while, and not very bothersome - but still, it didn't go away, and over time, it seemed to be getting worse. I couldn't ignore it anymore.

Many months later, after quite a few doctor's appointments, an MRI and a few other tests, and many "observation" walks up and down the hallway of the neurologist's office - the diagnosis was finally made, and confirmed. Parkinson's Disease (PD). By that time, Kenny and I weren't really surprised. From the very first appointment when the neurologist mentioned it as a possibility, we had been learning about it and researching it. And as my symptoms began to slowly "unfold", we were sure that was what I had, and were impatient for the doctors to make the official diagnosis.

By this time, we had already learned that although the average age that most folks are diagnosed with PD is 60, a small percentage (5-10%) have what is called "young onset PD" - and I now belonged to that group. I was about 41 at the time. Although PD manifests itself with "motor" symptoms - tremor, stiffness, slowness, difficulties with walking and moving, etc... - it is primarily a brain problem. Neurons that manufacture a chemical called dopamine for some reason pretty much start to die off, or at least stop working. It is the lack of dopamine that causes the symptoms of PD. Once the symptoms of PD begin to show, you have already lost 80% of those neurons. There are a slew of medicines to help ease the symptoms - and they are very powerful. It is a delicate and sometimes frustrating process to find the right combination of meds that does the most good, with the least side effects. There is also a surgical procedure called Deep Brain Stimulation (DBS) that can greatly help ease the symptoms of PD. (At the present time, I am in the midst of the former, and seriously considering the latter.) The bottom line, however, is that there is no cure for PD, and it is a progressive, degenerative disease. It will continue to get worse.

As all of that began to sink in, I began to soak up as much info on PD, and those who had it, as I possibly could. And as important as it is to be well-informed, there's such a thing as "too much" - and I certainly reached that level. There are so many possible symptoms and problems one could have with PD, but no one person will have them all. I didn't need to dwell on everything that could happen. And within the community of those who had the disease, I found a lot of anger, and fear, and misplaced hope, and not much faith. Maybe I just wasn't looking in the right place - I don't know. All I know is that I finally had to put the books down. I knew I was looking for answers in the wrong places. I don't remember if I started praying more earnestly then, or not. It's a moot point anyway - because regardless of whether or not I voiced the request - God gave me the answers I was looking for...