Between Hope and Joy

{Original Art Journaling by Jennifer LeBlanc 2012}

I've been in really rough shape. You know that if you read this blog much. 

A month ago, after a full spine MRI done to evaluate my Ankylosing Spondylitis, I was told that my MRI had shown something concerning. They recommended I have another MRI. If they saw what they thought they saw, they said it was potentially serious and unrelated to AS.

It was sixteen days of waiting and anxiety before the 2nd MRI. It took 90 minutes, and it was difficult. The pain had been at an all time high, and lying on a flat, hard table and holding extremely still for that long was really hard with AS.

I tried to breathe evenly and I prayed. I thought about my girls and my life. I thought about what life might be like with the serious disorder they were trying to rule out or confirm. I thought about how much worse my life could get, and how hard it already is. The pain was bad but I didn't want to blur my images or make another MRI necessary, so I held completely still and bore it.

It was dark outside when my husband and I drove out of the parking garage at the building where I had the test. I knew news would be coming in the next 24 hours -- news that might make me feel extreme gratitude that "all" I have is AS, or news that my life was going to change yet again, and not in a good way.

Throughout the 16 days I told very few people. I didn't want to worry anyone. But it made it difficult to journal or blog or even update my Facebook status. I was holding my breath. My last post was during that time. The fear was so strong.

The day after the MRI, I received two sets of news. One, the serious disorder they thought they saw I do not have. They ruled it out. Just to give you an idea of the fear I was dealing with, one of the potential results of that disorder is paralysis.

Relief.

I also found out I have more issues with my spine than I previously knew. That news was hard for me to process, but two+ weeks later, I'm at peace with it.

A lot has been changing in my life, and I'll post again soon. But for now, I've come out of the dark, and I wanted you to know.

I'm somewhere between hope and joy, and it feels tremendous.

Hope for the Weekend

It's one of those sleepy, rainy Fridays where the exhaustion of the week sets in. An afternoon for rest times and naps and doing the last few things that need to be done to welcome Sabbath.

It's a day where physical weariness reflects emotional weariness.

This week I was introduced, by a friend, to this new song by Matthew West. I wanted to share it here in the hope that you are blessed by it like I was:

Wishing you a restful, rejuvenating weekend. What's on your agenda?

Sunkissed

Can it be true that spring has finally arrived? Now that we are just over a month away from the official beginning of summer?

Today was gorgeous, although the breeze was still a bit chilly, and the girls and I spent a lovely two hours at the park after school. Tonight I feel reminders of the sunny day on my arms and back.

I LOVE rain. Ask anyone.

I also love sunny days when it is not too hot and I can spend time with the girls at the park. They love swinging and sliding and teeter-tottering and all that park life entails. I love watching their antics, witnessing their joy, knowing they are getting good exercise and fresh air and Vitamin D, photographing them, and maybe scribbling in my notebook for 5 minutes.

Today was just one of those days, and it made me excited for summer. No school schedule. No packing lunches every morning. Sunglasses and flip-flops and a tote bag full of things like bandaids, water bottles, wet wipes, snacks, and a book. Coming home sunkissed, with grass stains or sand in between our toes.

Oh, it will be lovely...

Possibilities & Potential...

I was excited today to step on the scale and find I have made more progress on my goal to shed some extra pounds this year.

In 4 days, I am leading a journaling retreat for 7 ladies and we are going to spend the weekend laughing, reflecting, writing, sipping hot drinks, and "retreating" from our normal, busy lives. I can't wait to spend time with these women, and to focus on journaling for a couple of days.

When I started this blog last September, it was my dream that maybe someday it would be a foundation for things like journaling retreats. I can't believe this dream is already becoming reality.

The sunshine today (for the 2nd day in a row!) reminded me of Spring, and sure enough, even on the calendar, it is just around the corner. I heard the sound of lawn mowers in my neighborhood all afternoon, and wondered, on the way to pick up my Kindergartener, where my sunglasses are. The whole day seemed to be a reminder that there is always hope, there is always possibility and potential and promise.

Do you have goals for the year? Do you have dreams? Are you making any progress? What's one small step you could take this week to begin, or continue?

Hope

Loss changes your perspective. It makes you realize (sometimes in the most painful way imaginable) that things are not what matter, people are. This Christmas Eve day I am thinking of those who are celebrating Christmas despite the absence of someone they love. Maybe the pain is so deep or the loss so fresh, they are not even celebrating -- they are just enduring.

For those people, I am wishing for future Christmases that they can enjoy... when the hole in their hearts is not so raw, when the people they are missing are back in their company. Maybe that reunion will take place in this life, and maybe it won't happen until the next, but the thing that I love most about Christmas and the true meaning behind it, is Hope.

Hope that we will celebrate Christmas with grandchildren near.
Hope that next Christmas the child we are longing to adopt will be in our homes.
Hope that our siblings and children will return safely from serving our country.

Hope that the babies we have lost to miscarriage, stillbirth, SIDS, infant cancer ... will be restored to our arms once again.
Hope that the friends and family members we have had to say goodbye to, we will see and laugh with again.
Hope that came in the form of a baby born in a smelly barn.

Hope that is possible because of our Savior.

If you feel empty and alone this Christmas, if you feel the absence of someone you love, just hold on. Hold onto hope.