Saturday, June 11, 2022

Reflection on the Past Three Years: A Letter to a Friend

Sevierville, TN

Dear Mrs. _____ ______,

My heart is overfull right now, and I feel like the Lord has stamped your name onto my heart, so with your permission, I’m going to pour it out to you. I may appear to jump around, but I pledge my troth to tie the various themes together by the end.

There is a two-fold purpose in this letter: one is to encourage you, in the midst of the crises of our times; and the second, is to share with you some more personal developments in my own life, and by sharing, gain some deeper clarity in my own heart.

This is the turning, and I don’t know how many souls see, feel, or taste it. Perhaps it’s been on your mind like a wisp of fog hanging over a valley, and you can sense it, but as you focus, it fades away. It leaves only confusion in its wake, and you feel a sense of desolation as you see so many young souls turn away from so many simple truths of love and Lord.

How can the world continue as it is? This misery and sin, this Sodom and Gamorah of film, fashion, story, and universities, must end, at some point. They must realize that these things do not bring them happiness… mustn’t they? How long can a generation seek carnal pleasure, financial success, or the death of their own children?

But they have gone on so much longer than I ever thought they would. The Hundred Years of Fatima is ended, yet where is the reign of Mary’s Immaculate Heart? Did we misunderstand the timeline? What does her Reign look like? Must I change my expectations? When I bring these questions to the Lord, He tells me to wait. In fact, lately, He has ceased to speak to me at all. He only laughs, like there is a great surprise coming, and if I only knew it, I would die of joy, so He says nothing. “Wait and see,” He says, “Wait and see.”

I was just reading The Wind in the Willows, the chapter ‘Dulce Domum,’ which means ‘Sweet Home.’ It’s where Mole returns to his little hole in the ground, and reconnects with the anchor that is his domicile, and if you haven’t read it, I hope this inspires you to read the whole chapter. It is a glorious and unusual portrayal of what home is - even apart from family, parents, or a spouse, just ‘home’.

“But ere he closed his eyes he let them wander round his old room, mellow in the glow of the firelight that played or rested on familiar and friendly things which had long been unconsciously a part of him, and now smilingly received him back, without rancour…. He saw clearly how plain and simple  - how narrow, even - it all was; but clearly, too, how much it all meant to him, and the special value of some such anchorage in one’s existence. He did not at all want to abandon the new life and its splendid spaces, to turn his back on sun and air and all they offered him and creep home and stay there; the upper world was all too strong; it called to him still, even down there, and he knew he must return to the larger stage. But it was good to think he had this to come back to, this place which was all his own, these things which were so glad to see him again and could always be counted on again for the same simple welcome.”

Isn’t that precious? It speaks to me so much right now, because - and here comes a personal detail - I am once again homeless. I laugh as I picture your face, on reading that.

The Flight House Road Trip last year was a short and miraculous trip that gave me the courage and moral resolve to face this new and incredible stage of my life’s journey. Along with my parents and four youngest siblings, we are living in AirBnB’s, with no permanent home. Oh, we’re insane! We’re fools!

The Lord is massively shifting our family’s lives. We left Illinois, which, speaking of Sodom and Gamorah… it really is amazing how much your perspective shifts when you live in a part of the country that does not operate out of fear. Anyway, I’ll start at the beginning, and tell you how I got to where I am now. I promise, it’s a story well worth the telling.

Last year, when I went on the Road Trip, by myself, I had absolutely no idea where I was going. I’d been struggling with health issues for the past year, trying to work full time, build a business with Tim, and serve others. It was actually going very well. I remember you and I talked on the phone. <3 I was realistic about the slow growth of business success, and the sacrifices/front-loading that needed to go into our efforts, so I was absolutely floored by how well we initially progressed in our business. Opportunity after opportunity opened to us, growth and excitement from other creators really excited us, and because of our success, I was convinced that this was where the Lord was calling us.

Apparently, Tim did not feel thus. The week before my birthday, at the end of April, he flew to visit friends in California. While he was gone, I held a beautiful 3-day retreat for women - taking advantage of his absent male presence, heehee - and made some great connections with young women. They all loved it, and encouraged me to have more meetings and events like this. Tim flew home at 11pm on my birthday. We said hello, went to bed, and the next day, my world fell apart.

I had known, for some time, that I was carrying the bulk of the business on my shoulders, a fact I did not at all mind. I had more training as a coach, more entrepreneurial classes under my belt, and more passion for the coaching side of things… and I had encouraged Tim to discern how he wanted to be involved - even if he wanted to be involved. And he had said, again and again, that he would ‘think about it.’ I loved having him on the team, and he was contributing well at the beginning, but of course, did not want him to commit to something his heart wasn’t in, and the past few of months of inactivity from him seemed to show that that was the case.

He wrote me a letter Saturday morning, the morning after my birthday, and gave it to me at noon. It was not a resignation from the business - that was only about 2 sentences inside the letter. It was a letter rejecting me.

He said I was the reason he could not move on in life. That I was smothering him, and making him fail. That I was incapable of finishing projects, and he demanded that I to move out of his apartment by the end of the month.

I do not wish to dwell overmuch on the letter. There was more, but you get the picture.

I was shattered. I’ve never had a boy-friend; never been dumped; now I had. And for me, I think, this was so much worse.

You know how inseparable we were - how much we loved each other. Apparently, resentment had been growing in him, unknownst to me, for years, and I was blind to it. I didn’t realize it at the time, though I see it now, that the Lord was crumbling my idols. Ever since I was a little child, I idolized my little brother. He could do no wrong. His moods were always justified, and my fault. If he felt smothered, I put pressure on myself to give him more space. If he felt resentment, then it was my fault for not choosing just the right words when I spoke to him. And if he did not approve of a life choice I made, I put a lot of weight on that opinion.

The Lord wanted me to be free from such associations. Love is a beautiful thing, but how easy it is to pervert it! It must be free, freely given and freely received. And it must always be allowed to put God and individual callings first. Tim and I were not each other’s callings, but we were putting our lives on hold, trying to find some sense of false fulfillment in the other. I in caring for him, and he in trying to ride my successes.

It’s easy for me, when I share this story, to start trying to justify what I say, because on some level, I’m still in shock, and still want to claim responsibility for what happened.

I had only just started hearing the voice of the Lord - literally a month before this happened, and what incredible grace He gave me in that, for as I read each line of the letter, I heard His voice, more clearly than I ever had before, saying, “That’s a lie, that’s a lie, that’s a lie.” Without resentment, I accepted the truth of the Lord’s words. These were lies, and not reality. Some of the items may have valid points, but I was not to try and defend or justify myself. Only to submit to the situation, to how the Lord wanted to work within it, and not to try to understand how my brother had gotten to such a point.

Over time, the Lord still reveals more to me about my past, my childhood, and my adult life, negative examples of how my brother treated me, to air them out and help me release them. My parents have been able to help me see patterns, actions, and warning signs they had been noticing for years, but which I had been too blind to see. However, the grace of it all is that I have not lost sight or appreciation for any of the beautiful and loving interactions we had as well. The evil NEVER negates the good. In fact, the good shines all the brighter, sometimes, because the Lord is so very present in it. The ugliness of Hell cannot and never does dim the brilliance of Heaven.

Needless to say, I moved out in a month, bought a car, and, packing all my worldly belongings into it, I set off on a road trip. My brother Dennis and his new bride graciously let me store my things in their extra bedroom, and then I started driving across the US to see where I wanted to live.

I had always wanted to get out of Illinois, but had no idea where I wanted to go.

At about the same time, my parents and I started praying, asking the Lord where we should - separately - move. And, separately, all three of us heard ‘Tennessee.’

So I drove to Tennessee.

Turns out, Tennessee wasn’t quite ready for me, but, oh it was beautiful! I saw it, I sent back pictures to my family, and they started dreaming about leaving Illinois as soon as possible.

I was homeless two months, driving from Walmart parking lots (where I slept a few times), to campsites, to friend’s houses, to historical and geographical landmarks.

I had good family friends, for whom I had babysat in Illinois, who had moved to the western tip of South Carolina, the City of Greenville, and they encouraged me to come visit, and stay as long as I wanted. They also had connections with a Catholic Retreat Center in the Blue Ridge Mountains, only an hour north of them, and put me in touch with the people there.

I asked the lady who ran the retreat center if they might need some help, and how long they might need it, and she said, “We could use you indefinitely.” How good God is!

So I moved to the most beautiful place I have ever lived. In exchange for room and board, I lived in the mountains and beside a lake for 10 months, acting as hostess and custodian for the buildings there, meeting holy and inspiring people, and going for days at a time without interacting with another human being.

What a peaceful place for healing, writing, and renewal. The Lord arranged it all, cradling me like an infant in his arms, and I couldn’t have planned it better. My relationship with Him blossomed. Because it was just Him and me, and what better situation is there? There was even a tiny chapel on campus with the Blessed Sacrament reposed. And only an hour away, lived the beautiful Catholic family who loved me like an aunt to their children, and every two months, I drove to Illinois see my family and friends.

I have to say, which I almost forgot to add, that the Lord worked many miracles during those ten months. I was very poor, and wondered, sometimes, if I would have the food, medicine, or gas I needed, when I needed it. I drove on fumes, sometimes. But if I was healthy enough, He got me to Mass. If I was feeling bad from my chronic illnesses (migraines, chronic fatigue, fibromyalgia, and some other issues), and needed to eat more of my food than usual, fearing that I would deplete my resources before my next paycheck, He promised to provide me exactly what I needed. And He always delivered. Sometimes through new friends who invited me to dinner, sometimes through leftovers from a retreat on campus, and sometimes through other random and unexpected ways. It got to a point where it was a sin for me to doubt Him, because the proofs of His goodness were too abundant to deny!

As I was living this new and radical life of trust in South Carolina, my family was living it in Illinois. They were bending all their energies to move out of their rental home in St. Charles, and move to a rental home in Eastern Tennessee, at the end of their lease on March 31st, 2022.

March 31st came. They moved out. And they came to stay for a month at the Retreat Center. :D This was good, because by this point, I had scrapped the very old car I had bought, reduced my work hours (which also reduced my pay), and was stuck in bed with health issues half the week at a time. It was becoming impossible even to make my own food, let alone do work or grocery shopping, and I hadn’t been to Mass in a month.

This had been a gradual descent over the winter, and I kept expecting to get better, but something felt different this time. It wasn’t just stemming from physical problems anymore. For example, sometimes I would experience a new and unusual symptom, and the next day, I would discover that a friend was going through a hard time in some other way, but that symptom was a usual pain for them, and it unexpectedly hadn’t affected them last night, while I was in pain.

After the third time this happened, I decided to have a talk with the Lord about it. After all, I try not to over-spiritualize things, so I often wait a little while before assuming it’s a spiritual attack. I don’t want to give the enemy more credit that he deserves (which is none ;).

The Lord had already promised my mom that one day, she would experience complete and utter healing. (She too suffers from many chronic issues, and has my whole life). We are all watching that prophecy unfold right now before our very eyes as, during this time of homelessness, problem after problem is clearing for her. Praise the Lord!

She asked Him if I, too, would experience complete healing, and though He had answered many questions for her during that prayer session, His response to this was, “She needs to ask me herself.” I had been avoiding the question, because I knew He would speak the truth, but I doubted if I had the graces I needed to hear it. So I was waiting for Him to help me out, and receiving a command from my mom to ask it allowed the graces of obedience to come into play. So, I asked Him.

“Will you heal me?”

That question annoyed Him, and I immediately sensed that I hadn’t been specific enough. “I am always healing you!” He said, frustrated that I might doubt it.

I laughed. “All right, yes, I believe you. Thank you. Let me ask again. These intense, crippling pain attacks that I am experiencing… will there ever be a time in my life when they go away for good?”

I can’t convey the answer He gave. I worded it so that His only recourse was a negative, yet the sensation that accompanied that word, when He gave it, was a full and positive affirmative, that flooded my soul with peace, love, and particular grace. And a sensation, as well, that I had full freedom in this choice. That if I accepted this incredible gift He wanted to give me, He would pour it out like wine over my soul, and it would be a light and easy burden - it would be my path to salvation.

Oh, my friend, it has been so light! Easy - almost never. And sometimes I forget that it is a grace. Sometimes the ease of suffering gets drawn away, and I reside in a darkness of emotional and mental misery… but even that is easier than I ever could have imagined. Because He still is with me, and Mary is with me, and the saints are a chorus of voices reminding me that there is no greater joy on earth than to suffer on the cross.

I suffered for years, ever since I was 15, and I have never known such peace amid my pain. He let me suffer so many years without understanding the redemption that is in everything He asks of us… but now, for whatever reason, our of the graciousness of His love, He has granted me a penetration into the mystery of suffering, and how sweet it is! I understand now why one of the saints, I can’t remember who, declared: If we understood the value of suffering, we would wish to prolong our journey on earth, so we can suffer more.

I’m not sure I wish for more suffering - I haven’t that grace yet - but I understand how such a desire, paired with knowledge, can exist. And I believe that suffering really is that redemptive.

I want to get back to my narrative, but this is taking me back to the beginning of my letter, because we must suffer from sin. It is the only way to attain Heaven. And yet, the cross has made our suffering sweet. It’s a paradox. A glorious one! Even as souls persist in sin, even as they perpetuate their own misery, they live ever in the opportunity to return to the Lord, and the suffering they experienced before conversion will become a redemptive light in the cleansing of their soul. For they were never truly satisfied, but starving, they ate from garbage cans, and how much more will their affinity for The Eucharist expand when they remember the filth of their empty lives?

I can’t believe how much I’ve written you - and all in one sitting, too, isn’t that impressive? But I’m so grateful for your patience as I unfold my narrative. I feel the Holy Spirit pressing me to tell all, so I will finish.

My family arrived in South Carolina at the beginning of April, and we all took a month-long vacation. I thought I would keep working at Heart Ridge Retreat Center while they visited, but the Lord allowed my pain to increase to such a pitch that I couldn’t even walk from one building to another. I had told my parents we would need to discuss and discern next steps with my life. Their dream of a homestead in Tennessee had been building as my dream too for the past half year, but they were planning to rent for a year before purchasing land, so I was planning to live in SC until they had land; now, my health proved that plan impossible.

We had a discussion among the three of us, and we decided to merge my fate with theirs. They had no home, no definite path, and yet my father bravely chose to include one more dependent under his non-existent roof.

My brother Andrew, age 23, was graduating from Wyoming Catholic College midway through May, and it had been my parent’s plan to stay at Heart Ridge until the end of April, then do an extended road trip across the western US, being on the road for a month. My mom has been sensing the coming societal collapse, and wanted the kids to experience the country now, while we were between crises that affected inter-state travel. It was nice to forget about Covid from South Carolina to Colorado. Colorado was the first state on our trip that had signs about it. In Illinois people still wear, and sometimes even require, masks. Not to mention all the vaccine billboards on the highways. Fear is a contagious thing.

Turns out, Andrew had been elected by his class to give the commencement speech, and it was so good! What a blessing to be present, and hear him give it. So many tears! He’s five years younger than me, and I’m so proud of him!

We drove ‘home’ by way of South Dakota (so gorgeous!), Minnesota, Wisconsin, Illinois, Indiana, Kentucky, and ended in Knoxville, TN. In Wisconsin, we stopped at the Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe, where we ran into the associate priest from our brand new parish here in Knoxville (the very first person my parents met when they came to scout out this area of the country), and the family who hosted them for dinner when they scouted the area. We had no idea they would be there, and it was such a proof from the Lord of his unique care of us that, once again, we haven’t been able to doubt His plans for us, no matter how despondent we get.

We are currently staying in an AirBnB outside Knoxville, and my parents are looking at rentals. But I will say this - I believe we will have a homestead in August. The Lord has promised it to me and my mom, and although we cannot fathom how He plans to fulfill such a promise, I can only say that I must continue to trust Him.

And to declare it to you is to render Him more glory when it comes to pass. And it will come to pass, even if it looks different than what we expect. But I will not lower my expectations, because I have learned, over the past year, that He loves to surpass them! And when I lower, I miss what He chooses to give me.

Home has become the Lord. It has become what He chooses to give me.

He is restoring the idea of ‘home.’

As a society, not only have we lost sight of the value of children; not only have we lost any appreciation for the life-long commitment of marriage; not only have parents flung their children off as if they were an anchor preventing them from pursuing the precious retirement plans of their youth… in addition to all this - as a by-product of flipping the world on its ear - society has lost the very simple and precious idea of ‘home.’

Home is the place we are held - home is, foundationally, a slice of Heaven, here on earth. It is Dolce Domum, the Sweet Home.

Maybe this is why I’ve written all this to you, but to me, your family stands as a shining symbol of Dolce Domum. Your Family Paper is only one example, but it demonstrates what home is. The _____ Scoop is not written as an online blog for strangers, posted on Instagram, or read aloud on Youtube; in fact, it would lose its very value if you did that. What I’m about to say may sound negative - because the world views this word and concept negatively - but I mean it as a true compliment: your scoop is too simple for that. It is a simple compilation of simple stories about simple activities; it is a ledger of a self-contained kingdom. Because your home itself is a kingdom. And those to whom you send the stories enjoy a peep not into ‘domestic bliss’, exactly, but into a world apart. It is not an example to others of how to live, but a sample of a home lived well. It stands as ‘The Times’ for the kingdom of your Home.

In so many ways, our family really struggled to have that ‘home’ feel. Others came to our house and felt so loved and received, and we were blown away by the graces they seemed to enjoy just by walking through our doors, but for us, that feeling was utterly elusive. We felt tossed about, ungrounded, never really planted on firm rock. As renters, as homeowners experiencing foreclosure, as homebuyers who never payed off the full mortgage… my parents felt left behind by the world.

Now, ironically, we’ve left the world behind.

One of my brother’s lines in his commencement speech mentioned the call of WCC students to enter into the world and carry their education with them. He said that most are called to live in the world, and as a joke, he added that not all people and able to depart from the world and live on a secluded homestead. How my mom and I laughed with each other when he said that! He didn’t even know our full dream yet! And he’s right. Such a life is a gift.

Yet, we do not wish to renounce the world, but only the ways of it. We wish to provide a space for those who have to live in it to find rejuvenation. Nowhere, in the world, is there a place that feels like ‘home’ to the tossed about, lonely souls of those who are seeking to follow Christ. We wish to provide that.

We will be a secret place, not advertised on social media or youtube. The Lord will send us those who need this place He will give us. We will be a little slice of Heaven, here on earth.

My friend, when I lived at Heart Ridge, I kept telling people that I had found a home. And every time I said those words, the Lord rebuked me. He said, “Your temporary home.” I didn’t know what that meant, other than to imagine that He was reserving the word ‘home’ for when I found my future husband. In some ways, that’s true. But in a broader sense, Home is not a person, it is a reality.

And for the first in my life, as I move from place to place, living on 4 outfits out of a shared suitcase with my sisters, I feel at Home. He’s no longer correcting me. I am home.

I said at the outset that this is the turning, and I meant the turning of the ages. Revelation has begun, and after it unfolds, we will understand it as we never have before.

But not even Catholics believe it.

They say things like, “We have seen bad times before, and the Church always pulls through.” “We can never know the day or hour.”

Conveniently, they have forgotten to keep their lanterns wicked. They have forgotten that moral degradation, on all levels, is more telling than external tribulations. They have neglected the call to keep a watchful eye to the Horizon, and that many small revelations have taken place over the millenia. Their age is not exempt. We have not been forgotten.

Many will perish in this time, but do not despair. You are responsible for no one’s soul but your own, and those of your small children. And even toward them, you owe only guidance, and an example of personal virtue, to teach them to steward their own souls.

The world cannot continue thus, and it cannot save itself. Individually, saints have learned through the ages that their vices are not enough for them, and yet the world thinks it can redeem its own shortcomings. Without the intervention of the Lord, virtue will not return to the land. Without His aid, we swing on the pendulum of lust and prudishness, murder and tolerance, change and conservation.

Mary’s Immaculate Heart is already reigning, and how she desires to enter our hearts. She is preparing us for the final confrontation, pruning the errors of our souls to strengthen us against the winter that cannot be turned back. Never lower your expectations. Expect to hear the voice of the Lord. Ask Him what promises He has in store for you.

I say again, He tells me to wait. There is a great surprise coming, and if I only knew it, I would die of joy. “Wait and see,” He says, “Wait and see.”

Thank you for listening. Thank you for receiving.

In Christ, through Mama Mary,

Elizabeth

P.S. My friend, (In spite of being almost 30, and an adult when I first met you, I always think of you as Mrs. ______), I have to add another proof of how much Jesus loves me. When I began this letter, I really wanted to mail it to you physically, but we don’t have a printer, and getting out of the house, with my health, has been a strain. I knew I had too much to write to have the strength to write it out physically, so I decided to just accept that I would need to email it to you. Then, I paused writing and came out of my room for dinner, and what did my dad have sitting on the kitchen table? A brand new printer. God is good, all the time!

P.P.S. If you would like to write back, you can reach me at…

April 28, 2022

Notes for message sent out to family and friends at beginning of Sabbatical, day before my birthday

Hey. I’m reaching out to let you know that I am taking a 3 month sabbatical from work, communication, and obligations, in order to turn my focus to intentionally healing, and resting in the Lord.

• intense, incapacitating pain attacks

• rebuilding damage on nerves

• brief windows in the day when I feel well enough to both hold a phone and speak at the same time

• the process of the Lord calling me into his arms, as I enter the cross. To be on the cross means the same as to be in His arms, for we are never on the cross alone. He has chosen to be there, and I am His beloved, joining Him there - never replacing, never withdrawing, saying again and again, Yes, yes I will do as you ask. Yes, I will join you.

• It must be a sabbatical, not a retreat - when it comes from a place of “I can’t do this,” we are doubting Him. But when it comes from a place of responding to His blatant request, then it comes from Him. And to say yes is not a defeat, it is a joy. But I don’t want to imply that this is easy. It is simple to say yes, but it requires great trust. Trust that He is providing, trust that He is healing, and trust that this experience is only temporary, and that my return to the world will be as beautiful and healing as this time of retreat is proving to be.

• 3 months of no phone use: no texting, no email, no phone calls. If you would like to send me an encouraging message, either written or audio, please feel free! I would love that! But do not except me to respond.

• please keep me in your prayers during this time, and feel free to send me any prayer requests. This, and any experience of healing, is not only redemptive for me, but for the entire world. Healing in one person is exponential: each step we take deeper into the heart of Christ and His will for us multiplies and cascades until it suffuses the whole world.

April 10, 2022

On how the sick person struggles with transition, and how to interact with a sick person, to assist them in their illness, and display the Love of Christ…

The sick person struggles with transition. For example, after being away from home all day, coming home may induce an energy crash. The person seemed just fine out and about, but on coming home, seems unable to speak coherently, speak at all, or make decisions. She may collapse into a chair, or wander around trying to be helpful, but instead getting in the way.

This is most detrimental when the sick person is a mother, or another person with heavy responsibilities in the household. Other people, including the father, may rely on mom for help in these moments of transition, and feel abandoned or manipulated when she is unable to give coherent or sensible responses.

For a teenager, the stress may involve them getting yelled at when they immediately sit down on entering the house to catch their breath. Their parent may ask impatiently, “What are you doing just sitting around?”

The teenager is unable to answer this question. To them, it is the natural thing to do, and they are obeying the impulses of their body, but now they doubt themselves, seeing that this is not normal for everyone else. Doubts arise in their mind: “Why am I so weak? I’m just lazy. I’m not paying enough attention.” They and their parents fail to realize that they are recouperating in this moment.

It is important to have rules and expectations in place to best assist this person in those moments of transition.

HOW TO SET RULES AND EXPECTATIONS

Have a conversation about the sick person’s basic needs. Write them down, and order by priority.

• “I need to have a water bottle beside me at all times, because I never know when I’m going to desperately need a drink of water.”

• “I need my homeopathic remedy every three hours. If I forget to take it, I will scream because of the leg cramps that I get.”

• “I can’t stand after driving, because of my car sickness. After arriving home, I need to sit at the kitchen table and eat some chips with guacamole to calm my stomach.”

• “It stresses me out when anyone asks me to make decisions within 20 minutes of arriving home.”

• “My body goes into spasms when someone plays the piano as soon as we get in the door. I need the house to be in a calm state before someone starts playing music.”

After looking over this list, set rules for yourself and them:

• Rule 1: On entering the house, Dad (healthy person) escorts mom (sick person) to couch, any time we are gone for more than 4 hours, regardless of how she feels in the moment.

• Rule 2: Dad refills her water bottle, and brings her a bowl of guacamole and a bag of chips. (He does not ask her if she needs these things - he just brings them. If she doesn’t eat them, that’s ok.)

• Rule 3: He asks if she needs her remedy, and brings it if necessary.

• Rule 4: No one plays piano, or is allowed to ask mom if they can play piano, until an hour after she arrives home.

• Rule 5: Only dad (or oldest child home) is allowed to ask mom questions, if they themselves are unable to handle the situation without her input.

This can seem like overkill. After all, there may be food in the car still which needs to be brought in and put away before it spoils. Why not just bring in the groceries first, or answer a couple texts, before taking these steps? But for the sick person, such a pause can seem interminable. If the sick person is ignored during the rush to put away food, their human dignity may be being violated.  This is because they are incapable of meeting their own basic needs. Because they are incapable of caring for themselves in this moment, they feel alone and abandoned, just like a three year old who wants to untie his muddy shoes, or take off his winter coat, but doesn’t know how.

The good news is that implementing these rules is actually quick and simple. Once the rules are established, they don’t take more than ten minutes. And you are serving them with great dignity. The adult sick person knows not to cry because of their muddy boots, but on the inside, you bring them the same relief and happiness of the small child who is finally allowed to run free through the house.

Finally, if you’re worried about groceries spoiling in a hot car, plan ahead: pack a cooler and icepacks before going to the store, even if it’s just five minutes away. This allows you to put the sick person first, no matter what kind of emergencies might come up.

It is important to remember that the person is the most important aspect of any situation.

We know we should be considerate to others - this is something we all grew up knowing - but consideration for a sick person might look different than the standards that have been trained into us.

There are no set standards for the individual care of a sick person. Each person has different needs: one person may need salt-heavy foods, and one may need no-salt foods, but in spite of the differences in care, consideration is still possible in both circumstances.

Consideration means open communication, and willingness to change how you do something, when you learn that your first way of doing it was not helpful. It means a loving and adaptable attitude, open to listening and implementing.

You may have resistance to some of the ‘needs’ the sick person tells you they have.

There are two reasons for this:

1. They are blind to their own needs, and have misinterpreted the desires and emergencies that they are feeling.

2. You don’t understand the needs, and your misconception/misunderstanding is getting in the way of accepting the care they need.

I will address number 2 first:

You may have very strong preconceived ideas of what is or is not healthy, and this is often based on what is best for you, or what is culturally taught and accepted. For example, salt is bad, gluten is bad, and all fat is bad; soy is healthy, sugar replacements are healthy, and ‘diet’ is healthy.

But the bottom line is that, while there are some general standards of ‘healthy,’ every person is different, and sick people’s needs, for them, can be the difference between function and disfunction.

March 22, 2022

My health breaking down…

My dear [wonderful employer at the time],

I just realized I never answered your question about how many hours a week I’m working. I think I’m working about 15. I know it’s not 20. Sometimes it is, but not on average. I think you should be paying me $300 a month consistently - definitely not $400. Because if it’s $100 for every 20 hours, and I am working 15 hours/week, then that rounds it down to an even $300 for 15 hours a week. Previously - before February - I was consistently working more hours than 20 per week, what with how busy The Lodge was during the week, and helping with Little Blue, and I was donating the extra time as we had talked about at first. But my health hasn’t been able to sustain that, especially with the downward turn it took in late November. I kept hoping I would feel better, but it’s been a consistent bout of bad days, with a few good days lately. In previous years, my health often begins to improve around April or May, so I’m hoping that it follows that trend again this year as well.

I had initially said that I would stay here until March, and then reevaluate at that time. And of course I have found that I love living and working here. On days when I feel well, it’s easy work, even if it lasts all day, and I absolutely love the quiet and beauty. I’ve just been soaking it into my soul. Plus the people who come here are amazing, and the people I work with are pretty great too. 😉

The problem is, most days lately, I’m not feeling well. At which point, even 20 minutes to 1 hour of work depletes my blood oxygen levels, and leaves me gasping for breath. Sometimes I can push through, but other times pushing through has led to dangerous issues with my organs. So obviously, that’s a problem, and I’m honestly not sure what my next step should be.

Since December, I’ve prayed and thought about moving to Greenville, maybe getting a second or full time job in the area, but with my consistent health setbacks, that hasn’t been feasible.

The Lord has always provided, and I’m curious to see what His plan is in all of this. It’s interesting to look back at where I was a year ago, and see how much more trust I have in Him, and in how He provides.

My doctor is currently recommending a heavy metal copper detox, which is the next heavy metal detox that I need to go through – I’ve been through many in my life. Each time, it knocks me out during the time it lasts, and brings long lasting healing afterward. But this particular detox is a six month program, and more strict than any I’ve been through before, during most of which time I can’t be doing any kind of manual labor. So I’m bringing that to the Lord right now. If it’s something He wants me to do soon, He will direct my path there, and open the door to a living situation and income that makes it possible. But on the other hand, I’ve had copper toxicity my whole life, so it’s not like it’s an emergency measure right now - I can wait. He knows best.

My mom and I are going to brainstorm all of this, and other possibilities and solutions, when she gets here. I will be praying a novena for clarity and direction leading up to it.

Thank you for taking the time to read this. It was really helpful for me, because it’s been a lot of different factors weighing on my mind lately, and it was really helpful to put it down on paper. Please feel free to ask me any questions, and to dispute the dollar amount of $300 per month. It might still be too much, if I did the math wrong. 😁

With love,

Elizabeth

Mar 15, 2022

Resting while Jesus Gardens My Heart…

Jesus told me, and I am writing to remind myself, that a new season is opening in my heart, and I need to rest in it. The action phase will come later. But now, the ground has been furrowed, and the blossom is resting, before it takes the effort to bloom. The caterpillar has spun the cocoon, and now is resting, before breaking out of the silk.

It’s ok if I just eat and sleep right now, because the dreams and the graces are blossoming through that work.

My soul is in the midst of a battle ground. It is ground zero, the calm in the midst of the storm. When my husband arrives, he will have fought the attackers to break through the line of battle, and reach the garden wall. At the wall, he will encounter my protector, my Brother, Christ the Lord. Mary will come and prepare me. She will dress me for my suitor, and when I conform my will to Christ, He will allow my suitor to enter. There, God the Father awaits to hand His daughter as bride to His son.

These are the visuals.

I’m also dreaming a lot about owning a Lodge where I heal people on the Gaps and Weston A. Price diets. I will put out a continental breakfast for the mornings, serve brunch from 11-2, and dinner from 5-7. I will leave out baked goods, soup, and salad the rest of the time, plus snacks, in crockpots and salad bar.

This allows guests to eat when they need to, nourish their bodies, and sleep and rest when their body asks. Each guest will have a private bathroom with a bathtub, and room to do an enema on the floor. We will include blankets, towels, and plastic sheets for enema floor sets. We will sell enema kits on the property, plus bath detoxes.

We will serve detox teas, juices, and broths.

We will hold classes where we teach how to make the healthy foods.

We will have exercise routines: slow stretching, walking the grounds, horseback riding, bike riding.

We will have a chapel on the property, with beautiful artwork, candles, pews, and floor mats for kneeling.

We will have a massage/chiropractic room for a masseuse and chiropractor to come.

February 22, 2022

A Message to a Friend

I know you’ll understand this. Probably better than I do - I always find I understand other people’s health journeys better than my own… oh well, we live and learn.

I realized belatedly that part of my reluctance with borrowing the car to come visit was actually health related, but because I’ve been wanting to hang out, I wasn’t letting myself notice that. Lately, going anywhere takes a day to recover from, and getting together mid week means losing at least a day and a half of work. But I wasn’t noticing, feeling like I ‘should’ be able to function better. My mom reminded me the other day, when I was frustrated with some health setbacks, that this is February, and it’s usual to have lower energy in February. So, living and learning. Sorry, I feel like I’ve been all over the map with just a simple get together! Honestly, the Lord has been stretching me a lot lately when it comes to accepting a quieter, slower life - even quieter and slower than I could have ever imagined. And yet, deeply peaceful and healing.

Ok, well, I’ve sent you a novel. This is what happens when I text at 5am, lol. Hopefully, this insomnia will pass, and I’ll fall asleep soon. 😅

Let me know if a phone call would work for you. That I can do at this time. 😉