Why do we have to be quiet?

I've always struggled with my faith in the area of "quiet times" or "getting in the Word" or wanting to spend time with God in general. I've always been afraid that it's going to change me into someone I don't like, because it did once. 

When I first got to college in 2009, I became some whacko Holy-roller for a year or two. It probably started before then, but I only had a select group of friends that went to my church, my bible studies, and studied at the coffee shops that had "encouraging" atmospheres. 

What?! Who was that person? I cannot imagine ever EVER going back to her. I love people too much. It's literally who God made me to be- to love people exactly where they are. 

That's why over the past 4 or 5 years, I have had maybe a handful of "quiet times" with God. The times I pray I end up yelling and cursing (omg call the bible cops) at the sky and crying out with my full heart because I'm suddenly so overwhelmed and can't take not praying in SOME way anymore.

And then a few weeks ago I started a study with a group from my church about literally just opening up your bible and learning some truths. I hate Christianese so much even typing that gives me the willies....

But the cool thing was a lovely woman far beyond the wisdom of any of the girls in our group showed up on the second week. And as we were discussing a challenging question about why it's hard to "get into the Word," I explained I didn't want to do it a certain way because I didn't want to feel obliged, I wanted to WANT to spend time in prayer but I didn't want to get into a routine kind of thing....it's a guilt and routine complex I have.

This lovely lady with all the grace she carried looked at me and said I didn't have to have "God-time" like ANYONE else. It didn't have to be at 6am over coffee and bagels. It didn't have to be in the car. It didn't have to be knelt at the bedside. It didn't have to last 4 minutes and 33 seconds. I didn't have to read 2 chapters in the Old Testament, 1 chapter in Psalm, 1 chapter in Proverbs, and 2 chapters in the New Testament.... I didn't have to have a routine. I didn't have to do anything I was ever taught. 

The next week, the words "quiet time" kept coming up in the study. And I was like, wait a minute. 

WHY DO I HAVE TO BE QUIET?! 

If you know me, you know I am not quiet. And if you don't know me, know this- I am the very definition of extrovert. I have literally walked up to people that I had already decided they would be my friend, introduced myself, and decidedly asked for their name and number so that we could hang out in the near future. Some of these are my best friends today...others ran away scared..oops. Now for all of you who are about to quote me the bible up and down about every time it says to be quiet so you can hear God and things about quiet still waters and Jesus getting away from it all to pray alone in a quiet place....I'm sorry but the author's of the bible probably didn't have ADHD and could concentrate on the same thing for more than 3 minutes at a time. 

I NEED noise. I NEED "distraction." I NEED people around me to concentrate. I know it's absolutely blasphemous, but it's true. I'm in nursing school and get my best work done at busy coffee shops where I can put in earphones and listen, watch, write, and allow my ADHD crazy to run around while sitting relatively still for a longer period of time. 

I also felt all kinds of FREEDOM when I had this little "you don't need to be quiet" revelation. Like God is with me all the time and I don't need to be quiet to hear him. I can't help but think maybe some people that preach silence for God-times just have a bad connection...not all, but some.

Anyway, I write this not to be a sasshole about quiet times because they ARE necessary for many many MANY people. But I write it for those that struggle to meet the status quo because you have never gotten the hang of being quiet with God. 

So, my friends with ADHD prayers and lives, SHOUT IT OUT, surround yourself with the tactileness (probs not a word) of the Word and world, feel the grass under your feet, and know that whether you sit in complete and utter silence or by the train tracks next to the football stadium on a Saturday night to hear from God, He will speak to you regardless. 

With love, 
Maggie Mae

Community Post- Rejection

Have you ever had to go completely against your gut even when it was screaming at you to turn around?

Ever look into a terrifying fog as it rose out of the forest, thicker than you can ever imagine? You can't see the second line of trees anymore and your feeling it close in and you know you should run away?

But you don't run away, and you don't turn around. You walk straight into it. It's honestly like an addiction.

Only a few days ago I ran head first into the fog. I felt its shroud and steeled myself. Someone I trusted and thought wouldn't hurt me, blew me off. Not for the first time either.

Something you need to understand about me is that once I'm all in, I'm all in. There's no one foot in and one out. I dive in and am committed. This person was a small group leader to me this past summer for a really deep curriculum. I cried all but two meetings....I'm telling you. All or nothing. It's why I can't gamble.

Then it happened. Something she had promised she wouldn't do...and maybe didn't do intentionally....

She begin to make plans with another girl in front of me and "swerved." She, for some reason or another, didn't want me to be a part of the plans.

When they left the church event, she told me she had early work...probably true. But not the reason to leave.

Of course through social media I found out it was a late night of fun activities. I felt the fog crush me and push me back into the weird little cabin I sit in as I decide whether or not I'm going to run into it or not.

All I want is community and to be included. I want to love and be loved and to see friends and have friends want to see me.

Unfortunately I haven't made it through the fog just yet, so I don't know what's on the other side. It might be more fog, denser, colder, heavier.

This isn't the first rejection of this kind either. It's just the most recent.

Why do I do this? I literally do it over and over again. I feel the rejection deep in my gut before it happens. I can read someone to see if it'll ever "happen" or if I will always just hover around the edges of their vision.

I will end on a lighter note. Every time I feel the rejection (mostly at church..which is the most unfortunate thing in the whole world), I pray for friends and community and for God to change my outlook on it. He has been changing my outlook substantially and providing others that feel the same exact way I do for the past couple years.

Even more, the biggest revelation of this post is, maybe I need to change my prayer. God has changed my outlook for sure, but maybe He needs to change my heart now.

My love,
Maggie Mae

Community Post- Finding Initimacy

It's been eleven years since I turned to Jesus. I don't regret it but the years have not gotten easier, though they have somehow grown shorter.

At the beginning I never had to wonder what community was. I had friends. It was the biggest thing that led me to Christ. That was in highschool and I will forever be thankful to the group of friends that encouraged me, sharpened me, and loved me into Jesus.

Then college came and the group from high school dwindled to one and the community bond lessened. However, I still found friends and over time these new friends became some of my closest friends, but I yearned for intimacy for the time I wasn't surrounded by it.

Throughout my young 20's, because honestly I haven't left the college zone yet, close friends came and went. Community was amazing and massive and found at every corner if you wanted it....

But now, I'm 26 and cannot seem to hold onto it. I moved home a few years ago after I couldn't find a job. I felt sure I'd make new friends easily or connect with a few old ones. Nope. Didn't happen, and I am one of the friendliest and most extroverted people you can meet.

The first 6 months of being home were 100% TORTURE. I was alone but for my cat and parents. My best friends became MY CAT AND MY PARENTS. I was 23 so imagine how disheartening that realization was! When I moved home, my amazing community didn't follow me. Not through communication or through emotion or attempts to stay connected...can you imagine the scar from that?

I finally was able to find a church and attend regularly. I joined a small group where I was so excited at the prospect of new friends! People to wine and dine and coffee with! Nope. Adulting sucks and everyone had work or kids or husbands or something that didn't include the single and ready to mingle new girl. I tried desperately. I stayed late after services. I went to multiple small groups if I could. I volunteered where needed, but I couldn't find what I needed- connection, community, and intimacy.

I tried and cried for two years. I asked to be invited. I, unfortunately, probably became that overly needy girl that no one even WANTS to invite because...no I can't think of a reason. I just wanted to be involved. But couldn't get the golden ticket.

So I church hopped and found a new church. This church preaches on the love of community and God knows I put that IV in my arm as fast as I could and waited for the sweet relief that is community and acceptance and intimacy. Slightly less nope, but so far...

It sucks because people can be so genuine and believe what they are saying so deep into their own bones that you believe them too. Then they disappoint you. Over..and over....and over again. And you have already bared your soul 15 times that week to them so what's the point in doing it again? They know and they still do it, so should you keep trying?

I honestly don't know. I keep praying for community- true and honest, soul-baring community. I want friends, not church members I sit beside. I do have a few friends from this new church, don't get me wrong, I even still have one from the old church.

But I'm not on the level with any that I can call up for coffee at random, or feel comfortable even doing that. A few I'm getting there with, but they have kids to consider (NOTHING wrong with that! I love my mom friends..in fact all but like 2 of my friends right now are moms! but it can make it difficult to do anything spur of the moment..or even planned.)

I just want to know I can sit with you and not talk, talk til day break, talk about life and death, or laugh about the wind.

I will keep praying. I will keep striving because I know my biggest enemy is rejection right now...more on that later....so much revelation there....

This is going to continue to be a brutally honest posting and if you have negative comments, or think I'm doing something wrong and don't deserve community, you can simply shove it where the sun don't shine.

With love,
Maggie Mae

Learning to Laugh

It's been almost 5 days since Dad's been home and he seems to be doing well. His demeanor is much better and he seems to be gaining strength. Home health has been coming out and will continue a couple days a week to check vitals and to help him continue to gain strength. Until he's strong enough, no prostate surgery will take place.

I'm starting to gain some hope and even more perspective as this goes on. My last post was emotional and morbid, but also raw, real, and vulnerable. I'm reminded through this ordeal that God is still in control even when I am emotional and my head is cramping from crying.

Even more so, I look at the title to my blog "Learning to Laugh" and think of what that means. The verse that comes from is Proverbs 31:25 "She is clothed with strength and dignity, and she laughs without fear of the future."

I feel like God, in the moments of my suffering, is showing me over and over again how to laugh at the future. How to be okay with what's going to happen because I know that God is in control. And that's not to say I'm ever going to be okay with my family being sick, but to know and have peace that they are in God's hands.

So I guess I'm allowing the small rays of hope to come back in right now, but still being very wary and cautious of his recovery.

Thanks so much for your prayers and keep them coming! Lets all learn to laugh and be at peace with God's plans for our lives and for those we love, even when we have heartache.

All my love,
Maggie Mae

Daddy's Little Girl Wants Daddy Better

Apparently my last post was a bit premature, which im sure happens all the time in these situations.

While I still praise God that he sent in someone that was ready to listen to us and dive in and try to address the root cause of my dad's situation, we hit another roadblock.

The vascular doctor came in and was adamant that if my dad had mesenteric ischemia, he would be in tremendous pain, which he has virtually no pain other than his ulcer.

This is when I turn into a brat and start stomping my feet and I want to yell at the doctors and say "BUT THE OTHER ONE SAID HE MIGHT HAVE THE BEGINNINGS OF IT! WHY CANT WE JUST STOP IT NOW! STOP IT! DO SOMETHING! DOOO ITTT!" And I fall into a heap on the floor and just cry and beat my fist against the ground.

My grownup side says this could be a good thing. That if he's not a candidate for the stent or bypass, then it can't possibly be that serious. But then if it's not that serious, why aren't his electrolytes balancing on their own? Within 3 weeks they went haywire from the first hospital visit.

My brother's theory is that because of the ulcer, food isn't breaking down correctly before it enters his intestines and isn't being absorbed and that's affecting his electrolye balance.

I honestly don't know. I just finished my anatomy and physiology courses and I learned SO much, but unfortunately this is all beyond me. I've been up-to-date and able to understand up until now. Maybe I'm just shutting down. Maybe I'm done trying to figure it out.

I feel like such a brat because I dont want him to come home. I want the doctors to keep him and fix him. Stop making him ideal in the hospital and scratching their heads when we bring him back two weeks later because we haven't been giving him saline solutions to balance his sodium and potassium (or whatever they're giving him) and we're letting him take all SIXTEEN medications daily as opposed to taking him off of them in the hospital because he's being closely monitored. 

I dont want them to send him home so that my mom and I can watch him continue to die slowly again...sorry for the morbidity but that's how it feels.

And to not know if we're hurting him! Last week I was taking him for a walk everyday because he said he was weak. We interpreted weak as he hasn't moved for 3 or 4 months because he hasn't felt well and he needed strength. Not an electrolye imbalance that was not allowing his muscles to function properly.

Two weeks ago he told my mom he couldn't write a check. That was a sign. We had no idea. The signs were there, but we are just so ignorant of them.

My brother says maybe there's a class we can take to learn the signs...in my head I just chuckle and think "yea, maybe nursing school." Or, here's an idea, the doctors could do something for him that when he comes home he won't decline so rapidly that he ends up back in the ER 3 weeks later.

I'm sorry, I know I'm ranting and venting and sounding like a child, but that's what I am. I am his child. I am daddy's little girl and I just want him to be better.

My love,
Maggie Mae

God Answers Prayers

First, I'd just like to thank everyone that reached out! Ya'll, I couldn't have felt more supported by the community that God has given me! It's so much bigger than what's in front of my face.

Second, I am so sorry for all the loss that has been suffered. Many that reached out after reading my last blog about my dad shared their own painful stories with me, and for that, I am forever grateful. My hurts aches with yours because I know it never gets easier, but you learn to "deal" with it.

After airing my grievances with God and opening my heart to the facebook world and asking for my praying people to pray, I slept fitfully. I mean, my dad was back in the hospital for the second time in less than a month. Sleep was when he was with us, even though I don't see him...it's just. I don't know you get so used to someone being there that when they aren't for a bad thing, it's intense. Plus I had just talked to old friends and gotten new recommendations for doctors to check into and things I should suggest to my mom that sound scary.

So Friday I had vowed to myself I wouldn't go to the hospital. I was being a brat, but I didn't want to see my dad so sad and out of it again. I had told my mom I didn't plan on going to the hospital unless I needed to but she said it was up to me.

After work, I looked at the hospital looming 4 blocks away...yes I work about a half mile from the hospital my dad was at. So I called my mom and told her I was on my way. I got to the room not long after and there were two doctors checking in on my dad. One was his cardiologist and one was a new guy. The new doctor was an answer to a prayer. I heard him talking about the GI tract and then looked at his name tag and realized he was the doctor a friend had raved about the night before! About how he was so detailed and thorough and thought of things other people didn't and on and on! And this angel-man is standing next to us talking to my dad.

We got good and bad news. The good news is the old scans from a month ago diagnosed the "probably" problem. My dad's intestinal arteries weren't getting enough blood due to the narrowing of said arteries. Yay! We found something, but with all good news comes a big but. His arteries compensated and tried to re-route his blood flow so he didn't feel the problems of the lack of flow til now. This is probably the reason our primary doctor didn't say it was something to worry about, but when the problem didn't resolve and his electrolytes kept jumping up and down...well at least the first doctor had the man parts to call a second opinion.

Where do we go from here? More doctors. A new kind we haven't been introduced to yet- a vascular doctor. The options seem to be a stent which many heart blockage patients get and is kinda scary because every procedure has its risks, but the other is a bypass. That's a little more intense.

Here's to hoping and praying that since God gave us one great answer He'll just keep 'em rolling and we can have the valedictorian of vascular doctors!

This is quite the roller-coaster of emotions and today, I'm kind of numb to it all. I've been going 100miles ahead all day until I sat down for this. I hate not having REAL answers and while your staying in the hospital, all you do is wait. It's like you have a doctor's appointment Monday, but you still have to wait in the little room until then, so it feels like so much longer.

Thank you again for all the prayers and well wishes.

My love,
Maggie Mae

What about me?

Lately my dad's been sick.

Back in probably January we noticed things starting to decline. He's 72 and not active so we blamed it on his sedentary life style. Move it or lose it is what I like to say.

But then he stopped eating because he felt pressure in his stomach. Then he started having other tummy troubles.

Finally, his doctor order an MRI of his abdomen after a colonoscopy showed nothing serious. Well, my dad didn't wait for the MRI and went to the ER. They found his sodium too low for comfort and couldn't regulate it for a while. Finally they regulated that but never solved his tummy trouble problems.

This whole ordeal was right before my birthday.

Within the next two weeks his pain got worse and we pleaded with the GI to do an endoscopy even though the scans in the hospital didn't indicate an ulcer. He was reluctant, but placated us.

Congrats, we found an ulcer! It wasn't exactly a needle in a hay stack either. More meds to add to my dad's 16 per day list. Does anyone look to see how they might affect him? Or affect each other? Nah. He NEEDS them.... --note my irritation--

It's been about 2 and a half weeks since we found the ulcer, and Dad has gotten worse. When he was in the hospital they sent a urologist in because my dad's 72 and the whole enlarged prostate thing happens and plus he has high blood pressure which your kidneys help to regulate and this guy was supposed to be THE guy to see. So he wants to take out the prostate.

Today Dad has his pre-op blood work done and they found his potassium high. Told him to go to the ER asap...Not news you want waking up from a nap as he was napping when my mom came home after getting that call. But it made sense. He was fatigued to the extreme and lethargic which are symptoms...but how are we supposed to know that? Even though I'm going into the medical field, I don't have anything close to that knowledge and yet I still feel guilty for making him get up and walk.

Anywho, that's the back story. It all sucks. A whole awful lot. It sucks more than just because it's my dad (which is the reason it sucks the most), but it also sucks because everyone forgets about those that have to live with the pain of watching their loved one wither away slowly. No one asks how my mom and I are dealing with this. And honestly, we're not doing so hot. She gets angry because she can't do anything about it. I get sad because...well it's sad and scary.

I'm also angry with God though. Let's be real. I'm confused. I want answers and I feel like we keep getting these quacks that just rely on scans and a few simple pricks of blood to tell them whats wrong. I get it! Medicine is amazing and has come so far and advanced and we shouldn't be invasive unless necessary, but when you have EVERY SYMPTOM OF AN ULCER and it just doesn't show up on the 3 scans you ordered with or without contrast, do a freaking endoscopy!

I cried today at God and said, "God, I know you have a plan, but right now I don't like it. "

I didn't cry the entire time he was in the hospital the week of my birthday. I did some deep breathing and got through it. He would be okay. After they figured it out, it would all be over. He would come home and be normal. He didn't. God didn't heal him.

Now, my mom is on stress level 90 in the ER with my dad, again. High potassium is terrifying. Nurses used to kill patients quickly, painlessly, and undetected with a small but lethal dose of potassium. When your body says it doesn't want to regulate it...I can't go there yet.

I keep waiting for God to make me go there. So far he's the only one asking how I'm doing, and I'm just shrugging and moving on. I can't answer. I don't know how. I'm falling apart.

I'm thankful I'm here with my mom for support, because she needs it. I'm thankful I get to see it all first hand and know that she's not crazy for being upset with the way things are. But it f**cking sucks.

I hate it at the very same time. My heart is heavy and my bones are aching. Every step I take right now requires a massive amount of effort. But I need to stay positive.

But being positive doesn't mean you're not sad.

Anyway, I'm not asking you to ask how I am, but I am asking you to remember the loved ones of the sick ones you know. They're having a difficult time. I promise. Take them to coffee and let them talk about the sickness in their way as long as they want without being overly positive or critical or anything. Just listen and ask questions. Ask them how THEY are, because they have answered for a long time how their sick loved one is and they DO APPRECIATE it. But they need some TLC too.

With love,
Maggie Mae