more: experiencing life’s abundance while living with chronic illness

more - experiencing life's abundance while living with chronic illness - tulips @poetryjoy.com

What might having an abundant life look like to you? Is it possible to have a “more than” existence with less? I believe it is. Although it has taken years of shifted thinking and spiritual digging to discover the truth of a less is more kind of life.

When I was a nurse, running madly around a ward all day, with a home and family to take care of as well, the idea of more meant extra time out and time off. Having a hot, undisturbed bath. A book to read. An ability to rest. A meal cooked by my husband. Those were luxuries to me.

But when I first became sick with M.E, I saw that time itself wasn’t such a gift. It’s how we spend our hours that counts. If you spend your days flat-out with fatigue in a darkened bedroom, unable to participate in life and full of pain, time seems like a cruel punishment, while the hours stretch endlessly. I felt like an 80-year-old in a 30 something’s body.

more - hourglass- #FMF - living with M.E quote (c) joylenton @poetryjoy.com

As my condition became less severe sometimes, quality time with loved ones became my most precious priority and sought after soul resource. Then my insecure soul felt that the essence of more was encapsulated in purchasing and accumulating stuff. It’s not. Because I was trying to plug an unaddressed sense of pain and loss.

“The Lord is my shepherd; I have everything I need. He lets me rest in fields of green grass and leads me to quiet pools of fresh water. He gives me new strength. He guides me in the right paths, as he has promised. Even if I go through the deepest darkness, I will not be afraid, Lord, for you are with me. Your shepherd’s rod and staff protect me.” – Psalms 23 GNT

Consumerism is a vicious hamster wheel kind of circle, whereby enough is never enough to try to assuage or feed our inner hunger. And it’s left me with a huge decluttering problem to tackle too.

Eventually, with additional physical health challenges and concerns, my eyes were opened to the inestimable worth of Simply. Being. Alive. I’ve realised I have more than enough because I already have all I can access of God’s mercy, grace and love.

more - rose - I have more than enough quote (C) joylenton @poetryjoy.com

“The thief comes only in order to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have and enjoy life, and have it in abundance [to the full, till it overflows].” – John 10:10 AMP

Shifts

as I age
hidden benefits emerge
like buried treasure
with inner leanings, a shift
toward the contemplative

I notice
far more than I did before
when preoccupied
with life and busyness
instead of seated stillness

my awareness of
inner and outer landscape
is magnified
their shifting moods noted
as seeing is more acute

their preciousness
gets highlighted by loss
cycles of death
repeat – fallenness of leaves
causes heartache and grief

although I see
intimations of hope
in the release
for we will both rise again
in newness of life and limb
© joylenton

I’m linking my five-minute-friday tanka pentaptych poem in community with fellow writer friends here as we share our thoughts on the prompt of “more.” May we all believe we are more than enough even when we feel like our lives or words are insufficient. And seek God Himself more than anything else.

begin: for when you can’t quite hit the new year running

begin - for when you can't quite hit the new year running - @poetryjoy.com

Dear reader, I’m curious about something: did you hit the new year running, eagerly embracing resolutions, ready for the new and the next, planning and pushing ahead to your heart’s content? If so, that’s great and I rather envy you. 😏

Or are you more like me: crawling on your knees, flattened with illness and fatigue, and sighing because January finds you less than fit and able? The latter? Please raise  or vaguely wave your weary arm in my direction. It’s good to know we’re not alone.

For years, without fail, I’ve always succumbed to flu or a heavy cold before the Christmas and New Year celebrations are over. Each January I’m hugging the duvet, coughing into my pillow and barely surfacing.

Sadly it’s not due to enjoying myself, but because I have a faulty, inefficient immune system that easily succumbs to viruses and overexertion of any kind. I keep hoping things will improve. But they haven’t. Not yet.

Experience has taught me to listen and act on the information I hear from my depleted body. Namely to rest and take care of myself. Because trying to press on in the face of increasing debility has never been a good plan for me. It only exacerbates my pre-existing chronic conditions.

One thing that never stops being active and running like a mad thing is my mind, even when my body stills due to increased sickness. Yours too, perhaps? It chunters on like it’s got something really important to process, while my weakened body is trying to shush it into silent, restful submission.

begin - god replenishes, restores and revives quote (c)joylenton @poetryjoy.com

And I’ve been mulling over what to write. How do we begin again when we’re feeling lethargic, muddy-headed or uninspired? The wonder is that whenever our well, our energy, inspiration or abilities run dry, we only need to ask and God replenishes, restores and revives our limited supplies. And we can begin again with Him any time we need to.

The poem below came to me as I was resting. May it speak to all who are in the throes of illness or lack creative inspiration. I’m also rejoicing that my current ailment seems to be more of a persistent cold than full-blown flu this time. Hooray! Progress!

Writer’s woes

I want to begin
make a mark on this page
this year
on the lives of others
with my thoughts and words

I don’t know how
to begin to write a thing
without assistance
because my brain is muffled
and my thoughts are befuddled

I am uncertain
wondering how to choose
what will speak
louder than my husky voice
of love and grace, hope and faith

in the end
all I have is willing hands
empty though they be
just waiting to be filled
before a drop can be spilled

holy whispers
encourage me to start
right where I am
with surrender, trust and truth
as inspiration filters through
© joylenton

begin - writer's woes poem excerpt - new year (c)joylenton @poetryjoy.com

Praise God for gifting this snuffly writer with something to say when she felt empty! Hopefully normal service will be resumed as soon as possible. 😉 Do let me know how you are, especially if you’re also below par, and we can pray for one another.

Never forget that rest, recovery and healing are vital soul and body work. You and I might begin this year slow like tortoises but we can still end strong by the grace of God. With love and virtual (germ-free) hugs to you. xo 💜

burden: chained by circumstance but freed by grace

burden - chained by circumstance, freed by grace @poetryjoy.com

There are days when our burdens, be they physical or emotional, become impossible to ignore. Days when we feel consumed by the weight of them. Chained to our hard circumstances. Dragged down into a dark place.

I prefer not to talk too much about having chronic illness, although it’s an inescapable fact that faces me each day. It demands enough. It has stolen too much. So much that I tend to want to ignore its presence and pretend I am fine, doing okay, even when I’m not.

It feels better to plaster a smile on my face and seek to maintain a positive outlook on life. It seems less bothersome, less of a burden to fight the good fight of faith and try not to yield to dismay. Or give in to self-pity.

But sometimes? Sometimes I am just too tired to fight against the pain. Sometimes I just want to sit and cry. Sometimes I lose sight of my loving Saviour sitting in the ashes with me, holding out His hands to receive.

Because God doesn’t want us to bear our burdens alone. He longs for us to turn to Him. To offer up our pain and problems like a fragrant thing. Because sometimes it’s truthfully all we are able to give to Him. And that’s okay. It really is.

Burden

fear nibbles at the edges of her soul, like a rat
aboard a sinking ship that leaks, lists and tips
because she has woken to face yet another
pain filled day, unrefreshed in every way

her spirits are plummeting fast and her heart
contracts as she thinks about the future, for
she longs above anything else not to become
a burden to others or to those she loves

during these days of increasing debility
and weariness, she can often forget
just who she should be handing all her
heavy burdens over to—until he speaks

with whispered reassurance in his voice
to her hurting soul—while he pours the balm
of hope into her heart, forcing fear and
discouragement to flee, and she falls

further, on bended knee, when Jesus
tenderly reminds her once again that
every burden handed over to him will
not only lessen the load on her soul

it will also miraculously transmute
into a blessing by faith, shaping her
perception, if not her situation in life

and so she prays, tears welling up in her
eyes, and she gives praise like a willing
sacrifice—in spite of nothing visible yet

taking place, she has already tasted his
goodness and grace, and sensed the difference
inside, where calm and peace now abide
© joylenton

We might not feel like it but we can learn to praise God in the storm, sense His presence with us and gain comfort in knowing we are not alone.

I’m so grateful for God’s grace in my life. His comforting embrace. His enabling when I am weak. For words coming when I feel drained and dry. And for being able to share my 5 minute(ish) poem with the fabulous five-minute-friday crew. This week’s prompt is “burden” and you can join your words here. 

burden - #FMF - burden poem excerpt (C)joylenton @poetryjoy.com

tripping: how God meets with us when life gets tough – snapshot #3

tripping - how God uses everything we go through - snapshot #3

We’re caught by surprise sometimes on attempting things we used to do before with relative ease but now find challenging. I’m largely housebound and incapacitated by chronic illness, but I can still totter around my small home and navigate a few steps (albeit painfully and slowly) most of the time.

But set my feet on concrete, ask me to pound pavement, and I’m all over the place, unsteady as can be. I have bad balance, limb stiffness, weakness and pain to contend with, which makes walking very slow, arduous at best and impossible at worst, when the territory is uneven.

Years ago I realised that a wheelchair was the best mode of transport for me. Sadly, there wasn’t anyone reliably able, available and fit enough to take me out in one, so I only borrowed a set of wheels when it was absolutely necessary.

I made a trip to the city recently and thought I would try to get there by bus, knowing how hard it can be to park the car.  I wanted to try stretching my limbs and limits (maybe you can relate?) in the vain hope of being able to accompany my grandson home from his first day at school next week.

Dear reader, I struggled. Pain was severe and I nearly cried out loud. I halted several times and barely covered one third of the necessary distance to reach my school collection goal. We caught a taxi home.

Later on, as I sat with frustration, I looked at my photos and wrote a poem about the experience. It was a surprise grace gift, arising from a hard thing, such as God delights to provide for you and me. Things don’t seem so bad when viewed from God’s perspective. I can’t manage the walk but I can be the one welcoming our grandson home at the door.

God is constantly rewriting our stories, blending them into His greater narrative. What seems to be causing us to fall just might lift our souls more than we can know. I’m grateful for God’s keeping power and my dependence on Him, even if my story has taken several unwanted twists and turns.

tripping - God is constantly rewriting our stories quote (C)joylenton @poetryjoy.com

Here’s the tanka pentaptych poem that arose from my tough time above…

Tripping

visit to the city
idle bus window browsing
I need new specs
I like my life blurry
not in such sharp focus

people mill
cluster around attractions
bright eared hares
decorating the pavement
we see them everywhere

I’m unsteady
my gait uneasy outside
like a drunk
I stumble and cling hard
holding on to stick and arm

these sea legs
wobble over cobbles
trip on the cracks
cannot go far without sinking
I feel like turning back

air is crisp
scent of leaves, fuel, flowers
August at an end
much is dead or dying
pain reminds me I’m alive
© joylenton

How has God met you at your point of need? Have you been able to trace His hand in the hard experiences of life? Let’s encourage one another in the comments below.

tripping tanka poem excerpt (C)joylenton @poetryjoy.com

ME: what it’s like to live with ME and chronic illness

 

How do you describe a life of continual illness, pain and profound fatigue? It’s hard, isn’t it?  We need empathy, compassion, and maybe someone who lives with the illness to show us. I’d like to be that person for you today.

Imagine wanting to be a vibrant, blooming flower for God, but you droop, fade easily, curl up with fatigue. You seek shade, because all bright light hurts your eyes. Sleep is fitful but it’s all you really want to do. So called ‘normal’ life is far too dazzling, hectic and loud for you to join in with for very long.

“Yes, I have M.E but it doesn’t have me; God does, and I am safe in His arms.” So runs the last line from a poem I penned to try to describe my life with M.E. Spanning over 25 years of sickness and weakness, M.E might have stolen my health and vitality but it doesn’t get to have the final say on who I am or, more importantly, Whose I am.

I’m housebound with M.E, fibromyalgia, arthritis and hypermobility syndrome. (You can see the myriad symptoms of M.E in this list.I rely heavily on God’s sustaining grace each day. I also have a Lottery winner tendency to spend, spend, spend whenever a little more energy or mental focus is present, instead of the usual resting and pacing after any activity!

 

As a writer and a poet I’m able to express some of the frustrations of living with such an illness. I’m hoping, as you read the poem below, that you might stop to contemplate just what M.E can feel like on this, M.E Awareness Day, part of raised awareness during the month of May.

Earthbound

A mind

blurred as fog

cloud of unknowing

sinking bog

slowed and stagnant

just tiny ripples rising

from the smog

vague on the horizon

 

A body

wearied beyond measure

bandage-bound

by pain, fatigue

long and profound

unrelenting weakness

rooting to the ground

muscle-chained down

 

A heart 

longing to be free

like eagles soaring

near the sun

to touch the heat

of healing rays

piercing us undone

from darkest days

 

A spirit

lifted up by love’s call

taken up to places

out of reach of all

that holds us prisoner

to the earth

united to the One 

who gives us life and birth

©joylenton

The poem above comes from my book, ‘Seeking Solace: Discovering Grace in Life’s Hard Places’, available on Amazon. Earthbound was actually its working title for a while. All proceeds from every copy sold go to Action for ME, a charity which raises awareness and supports carers and sufferers, while raising funds for research purposes.

Last year I wrote about life from the other side of living with M.E and chronic illness, singing my beloved husband’s praises as my carer. It was written before he became even more unwell himself. You can read that post here.

Thank you for being here, my friend, and for reading my words. Your sweet presence helps and encourages this weary woman more than you know!  🙂 ❤

A moment in time

seeking and finding PJ

Some moments are frozen in time, stilled in sense and sight. Etched on our minds and engraved in our memories.

I’m remembering a week when my beloved was away for a few days and (very thoughtfully) provided me with meals in the freezer.

All lovingly home-cooked and pre-prepared ahead of time. Yes I know, I’m one blessed woman!

There was even a typed list of what to find where and how to deal with it. How’s that for organisation?

He takes such good care of me; his hands willing to work on my behalf since he lost paid employment, and despite having developed Parkinson’s disease over the last 2 years.

Thankfully, he can still do most things he used to do before his diagnosis, albeit slower, with a degree of pain and fatigue.

I’m not completely helpless in a kitchen. I can muster up coffee, breakfast and a snack, but I am unused to coping alone with main meals.

Because cooking and cleaning are lost arts to me since I’ve become more chronically unwell with arthritis, fibromyalgia and M.E.

I can’t stand for long,  lift or carry much, can only walk a few steps unaided experience a great deal of muscle and joint pain plus profound fatigue on a daily basis, cognitive problems, brain fog and hypersensitivity to light and sound.

Thankfully, my husband actually loves to cook because he’s pretty good at it and preparing meals relaxes him.

We may live a rather limited life compared to some, yet we are grateful for small mercies and experience moments of  joy in little things.

The poem below speaks about my determination to press past my problems and push myself to enjoy a moment in time – although it’s not a recommended practice for those with M.E to extend themselves too much. Sadly, there’s always a payback afterwards. 😦

A moment in time

a moment in time laundry PJ

It’s only a moment in time

as I heed the inner need

to step outside a while

My senses alert to burgeoning

life as I peg laundry to line

I feel warm sun rays

playing on my face

like a heaven’s breath

benediction of grace

Whistling wind whips swift

tussling through hair and

trees, its resonant notes

vibrating each green leaf

Echoed in chiming ice-cream

van, roaming nearby streets,

while ‘sun has got its hat on’

sounds make children fleet of feet

My arms and legs ache so

with every move I make

And this bitter-sweet task

is no mean feat for me

Although washing is often

dried inside, today I yield,

follow my heart’s yearning,

welcoming embrace of Spring

©JoyLenton2015

a moment in time PJ pin

**I’m editing and sharing this pre-prepared post I’d intended to share last year, because my health remains rather challenging at the moment and fresh inspiration is a bit thin on the ground. Hopefully normal service will be resumed as soon as possible. Thank you for your grace! ** 🙂

Seeing beauty in the everyday

countryside flowers ~ file image WoJ

Sometimes we don’t have to travel far at all to see the wonder of the world.

It’s right here, on our doorstep.

Well within our vision.

There is beauty in the everyday.

Cause to celebrate the commonplace.

Eyes enhanced by grace see more than meets the eye.

Blessings abounding for the discerning.

We learn to marry the marvellous with the mundane.

I have had my eyes opened to enchantment.

My soul woken to the wonder woven through each day.

Being housebound means that each opportunity and ability to leave the confines of four walls is reason to rejoice.

Yes, even in a hospital waiting room, a trip to the doctor or the dentist! Surprising encounters can lift our days if we look for them.

I record #beautyintheeveryday on my Instagram feed as memory markers for darker, gloomier days.

All around we are offered opportunities to see life and to see it whole, to witness the outpouring of God’s goodness, glory and grace.

A short journey gives me a chance to see abundance of new life as sap rises in Spring, sultry, hazy, lazy days of Summer unfold, Autumn reveals her golden-clothed splendour, and Winter creeps its silvery, icy fingers on the land.

The poem below is celebrating my brief trips out in recent months, with a wistful looking forward to future ones.

‘Sightseeing’

countryside view

I didn’t travel far

beyond my front door

Just sitting in the car

delighting in the things I saw

Landscapes, clouds and sky

spoke out God’s beauty

to me as I watched

and sighed. And trees

bloomed fresh and green

then shed their coat of leaves

in russet-gold of varied hues

midst fluffy-white and cobalt-blue

I didn’t get to see

or smell the salt-tanged air

of sea, or watch as

waves rose and fell

upon the sand

Though my heart desires

to see the coast

and ponder on eternity

as life swells forth

in ebbs and tides

amongst the surf

unto infinity

©JoyLenton2014

coast ~ PJ file pin image