Despite what the title might indicate, this has nothing to do with my kindle. However, that post will be coming soon! Sarah, you can look forward to my glowing post about that! No, I'm writing today about rekindling my interest in web design.
Five years ago, I enjoyed a job as a web designer for a local company. When I left that job and went to work for my dad, my interest took a back seat to learning how to design houses and engineer buildings. It was a fun experience while it lasted, but I never really had the interest in it that I had in web design.
Well, now I'm unemployed and I have a lot of spare time on my hands and the itch to do something constructive with it has struck again. I tried to appease that itch before with crafts. It was enjoyable, but it has it's limitations. It's hard to cross-stitch when my wrist acts up, for example. I can see web design having similar issues. If a particular day the fibro fog is thick, I may not be in the best shape for programming. But I think a combination of the two should keep me occupied.
But since it's been a few years since I last designed a website, I feel a bit rusty. After all, HTML5 has taken off, and there's lots of new features to play with. CSS3 (something I looked forward to years ago) now seems to be standard. I'm looking forward to learning all the new tricks. And designing for smartphones is even more important these days, and I'm up for the challenge.
I'm enjoying it. Whether this just stays a hobby or turns into a source of income, I'm going to enjoy learning and having something to do.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Strength
Last November, I finally decided I couldn't work anymore. That was the most difficult decision I had to make about my illness. To me, not working was a sign of failure and weakness. It took a lot of people a lot of time to tell me otherwise and convince me to file for disability. Though I moved forward with it, I felt as if the strength I gained from working was lost.
I often had to work harder and be stronger to do things others could do with ease. Working was one of those things. I can remember days, a multitude of them, where I had to push myself to get through a work day. Sometimes I failed; I would have to go home early or stay home altogether, but I never beat myself up over it because I knew I had done my best. For the most part, though, I had built a successful working life, despite my struggles.
I could remind myself of my strengths because I knew that my struggles only made me stronger. Oh, how easy it would have been to just give in, but that's not who I am. In high school, when my knee kept me from being with the other cheerleaders, I cheered from the sidelines. When I fell behind my classmates at Magic Mountain or Disneyland, I pushed and struggled alone to catch up. Any time everything in me wanted to just give up, I never did. I was strong, stronger than anyone knew, because it took me twice the effort to do what everyone else could.
When I lost my ability to work, at least work enough to pay bills, I felt I no longer had that strength. I felt I lost my worth. How could I contribute anything to anyone if this part of everyone's life was something I could not do anymore? I know of people with exactly what I have, or more, who were able to work, and here I am, so young, and yet, incapable, inferior.
I cried so many tears in the fight to accept my limits. Friends and family can attest to the fact I did not want to quit. To this day, that pain lingers. But it allowed me something I never knew I needed. Losing the ability to work forced me to find my worth in something else: a God who formed me in my mother's womb, set each day ahead of me, and knew my every struggle, triumph, failure, and desire. This God reminded me time and time again that His strength is made perfect in MY weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9). He told me that I can do all things through HIM who gives me strength (Philippians 4:13).
It took losing my own strength to see that it is God who is my strength. My strength isn't dependent on how much I can work, or how hard I push myself, but on how much I rely on God. As I begin to see God's plan for my life in the things and people He is placing in my path, I realize that I needed to lose my vision of myself in order to depend on God and let Him mold me into the woman I am becoming.
I'm not even close to perfect about relying on God or letting Him judge my value and worth. But bit by bit, He is stripping away that which made me believe I could do it alone, that I didn't need help. Though it is painful, and I see but a scarred remnant of what I once was, I know God sees me becoming more beautiful and radiant as my life reflects His touch. I need to learn to see myself as God sees me, but He's working on that too. =)
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Mercies in Disguise
I've been going through a lot lately. Emotionally, physically, and spiritually. I'm stunningly aware of my vulnerability as I go through the emotions of a child with divorcing parents. I daily feel the ache and longing for love after a breakup. And some days that's enough to want to stay in bed, even if I didn't have to deal with my Fibro.
It's times like this I fully realize that I can't do it. I am weak. I am frail. And there is no reason for me to think anything good could come from my future. Except for one thing. I know in all of this, God is holding my hand, guiding me, and even when it feels like I'm walking alone, like the Footprints in the Sand poem, those are the times He carries me.
One of the biggest ways God speaks to me is through music. I had the most beautiful experience the other night. I had spent most of the day crying. I was in pain, everywhere, but mostly in my heart. I found myself questioning God. I cried out to Him, "What more do you want from me?! I can't take anymore!"
That night, sobbing and with nothing left to do but pray and sleep, I turned on the radio like I do every night. For 2 hours straight, song after song played that said exactly what I needed to hear. It was like God programmed the radio just for me. I felt Him say, "I'm sorry you are hurting. But I am with you. I won't leave you. All your worries, all your fears, cast them on me. You are my child and I will take care of you."
I cried, but not in anguish as I had that day. My tears were tears of healing. My God is my Comforter. And that night, though there are 6 billion people in the world, I felt His undivided attention and love.
One song that I have been hearing everywhere lately is called "Blessings" by Laura Story. It has been played everywhere, and I bought it and keep it on my phone just so I can listen to it when I need to. I watched a video on YouTube where she explained the backstory of this song. I love hearing the story behind songs and I could relate to this one. The link is above, but to summarize, a year and a half into her marriage, her husband developed a brain tumor. In faith, she and her husband pray for healing, but it doesn't come. She has struggled with how to reconcile a God who allows such things to happen, but she says God is teaching her that sometimes He has to leave us broken so he can work through us in greater ways.
The story is similar to mine with fibromyalgia and so I can relate to it. Perhaps that is why her song touches me so much. I'll link the lyrics here. In her song she asks, "What if your healing comes through tears? What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know you're near?" I've been learning lately that it is not through the easy times in life that we learn or are perfected, but it is through our trials. In our suffering, God slowly, and yes, painfully, chips a little away here, smooths there. All to make us more beautiful. More like Him.
Philippians 1:6 For I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus. (NASB)
But we also have to remember that while God is making us more like Him, he does not do it remotely. He is THERE with you. He will comfort and guide you and He will never put on you more than you can bear.
2 Corinthians 1:2 For just as the sufferings of Christ are ours in abundance, so also our comfort is abundant through Christ.
Psalm 34:10 The young lions do lack and suffer hunger;
But they who seek the Lord shall not be in want of any good thing.
This isn't even the best part. These things are good and we need to hear them. We need to know that God doesn't abandon us when life becomes too difficult. The best part, however, comes at the end of the song:
It's times like this I fully realize that I can't do it. I am weak. I am frail. And there is no reason for me to think anything good could come from my future. Except for one thing. I know in all of this, God is holding my hand, guiding me, and even when it feels like I'm walking alone, like the Footprints in the Sand poem, those are the times He carries me.
One of the biggest ways God speaks to me is through music. I had the most beautiful experience the other night. I had spent most of the day crying. I was in pain, everywhere, but mostly in my heart. I found myself questioning God. I cried out to Him, "What more do you want from me?! I can't take anymore!"
That night, sobbing and with nothing left to do but pray and sleep, I turned on the radio like I do every night. For 2 hours straight, song after song played that said exactly what I needed to hear. It was like God programmed the radio just for me. I felt Him say, "I'm sorry you are hurting. But I am with you. I won't leave you. All your worries, all your fears, cast them on me. You are my child and I will take care of you."
I cried, but not in anguish as I had that day. My tears were tears of healing. My God is my Comforter. And that night, though there are 6 billion people in the world, I felt His undivided attention and love.
One song that I have been hearing everywhere lately is called "Blessings" by Laura Story. It has been played everywhere, and I bought it and keep it on my phone just so I can listen to it when I need to. I watched a video on YouTube where she explained the backstory of this song. I love hearing the story behind songs and I could relate to this one. The link is above, but to summarize, a year and a half into her marriage, her husband developed a brain tumor. In faith, she and her husband pray for healing, but it doesn't come. She has struggled with how to reconcile a God who allows such things to happen, but she says God is teaching her that sometimes He has to leave us broken so he can work through us in greater ways.
The story is similar to mine with fibromyalgia and so I can relate to it. Perhaps that is why her song touches me so much. I'll link the lyrics here. In her song she asks, "What if your healing comes through tears? What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know you're near?" I've been learning lately that it is not through the easy times in life that we learn or are perfected, but it is through our trials. In our suffering, God slowly, and yes, painfully, chips a little away here, smooths there. All to make us more beautiful. More like Him.
Philippians 1:6 For I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus. (NASB)
But we also have to remember that while God is making us more like Him, he does not do it remotely. He is THERE with you. He will comfort and guide you and He will never put on you more than you can bear.
2 Corinthians 1:2 For just as the sufferings of Christ are ours in abundance, so also our comfort is abundant through Christ.
Psalm 34:10 The young lions do lack and suffer hunger;
But they who seek the Lord shall not be in want of any good thing.
This isn't even the best part. These things are good and we need to hear them. We need to know that God doesn't abandon us when life becomes too difficult. The best part, however, comes at the end of the song:
When friends betray us, when darkness seems to win
We know the pain reminds this heart
That this is not, this is not our home
It's not our home
We know the pain reminds this heart
That this is not, this is not our home
It's not our home
What if my greatest disappointments
Or the achings of this life
Is the revealing of a greater thirst
This world can’t satisfy?
Or the achings of this life
Is the revealing of a greater thirst
This world can’t satisfy?
Deep down, inside every person, is the longing - no, the desperation - for more than this world can offer. We are all homesick. The human heart was made with a longing for heaven and nothing in this world can come close to what we need.
Romans 8:18 For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that is to be revealed to us.
How much greater will our homecoming be after the trials here on Earth? I think we probably couldn't appreciate the greatness of heaven without enduring here in this world. How much more will we enjoy the eternal, never-ending presence of God in our midst, day after day, having had the anticipation in this life? What if all our trials, all our suffering, every person who hurts us, the guilt and fear and anger we feel, are indeed mercies in disguise, allowing God to prove to us that our faith is not empty? What if this is just another way God make's himself known to us?
Like Laura Story sings, "What if the trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise?"
As always, I would appreciate any comments about my posts. Thoughts, encouragement, and criticism are welcome. I am constantly developing as a writer and as a child of God and I would love to hear from you.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
A Little At A Time
Today's going to be one of those days. I knew that yesterday. And Why? Because I didn't follow my #1 rule. "A Little At A Time".
The one thing having fibromyalgia has taught me is that pacing yourself is paramount. For about a year now, I've kept to the "One Major" rule. One major task a day. Work or shopping; never both. Any more than one, and I risk a flare. No, "risk" is the wrong word. That indicates there's only a chance. "Ensure". I ensure a flare.
So, here's the ultimate question: what made me think I could do 3 shopping trips yesterday? In my defense, the third was unintended. Though, if I am to be honest with myself, I was not even up to shopping at all. I had eyed the stairs between me and my clothes with dread. My legs burned and my shoulders were in agony by the time I got up the stairs. Somehow, I got up the gumption to get dressed and wait downstairs for my Mom to pick me up.
But I forgot my socks so back upstairs I went.
Fortunately there was about an hour still of waiting for Mom, so I got a little rest. I had 2 goals: grocery shopping and a run to the craft store. Mom wanted to stop at another store to pick up some stuff for the house, and I had to admit, I wanted to go as well anyway. I got some much needed stuff for my bedroom, so it wasn't for naught.
Next stop was Michael's. This is always a doozy for me. Every time I plan to go, I think it will be a quick run to pick up a few things. But I can't help but look at everything when I go. It's like a candy store. So many bits and baubles and inspiration around every turn. It's glorious!
Somehow, I managed to not get the very thing I went there to buy. I don't understand how a craft store can completely run out of black embroidery floss, but they did. Oh well, I'll buy it later.
Now for the groceries. As we pulled in, and I reminded Mom of my handicapped placard (lifesaver!), I thought, "OK, I've walked through all the other stores, so I can just take the scooter this time. It's probably best." Isn't it just my luck, there were none.
OK, I'll be dead on my feet by the end of the day, but I'll muddle through. A third of the way through the store and I'm ready to quit. But I really need to get some things, so I press on. What do I find when I finally check out? If you guessed "scooter" you were right. Figures, right?
By this time, I'm wiped out. Thank God for little brothers. Andrew and Evan were a huge help getting my groceries put away. I spent the rest of the night doing nothing. Ok, that's not true, I did get the non-perishables put away. Even after all I'd put myself through that day, I still had the urge to DO something. I resisted the urge to clean my room up a bit when I went to bed.
Exhausted as my day made me, I woke up early this morning. I always know it's going to be bad when I wake up early. It doesn't change how tired I am, I'm just awake. So, I'm expecting the next couple of days to be rough. I really hope I can make it to church on Sunday.
The moral of this story: It doesn't matter how much everyone else can manage in a day, never do more than you are capable of doing. A Little at a Time. Doing otherwise turns you into me: taking naps at 10 in the morning. Speaking of which, I'm heading upstairs. I need more sleep if I'm going to be up to my One Task tonight.
Hoping you all take everything A Little at a Time. (I eagerly look forward to questions or comments about my writing. Constructive criticism is also welcome. Thank you to all of you who read these and learn something from them.)
The one thing having fibromyalgia has taught me is that pacing yourself is paramount. For about a year now, I've kept to the "One Major" rule. One major task a day. Work or shopping; never both. Any more than one, and I risk a flare. No, "risk" is the wrong word. That indicates there's only a chance. "Ensure". I ensure a flare.
So, here's the ultimate question: what made me think I could do 3 shopping trips yesterday? In my defense, the third was unintended. Though, if I am to be honest with myself, I was not even up to shopping at all. I had eyed the stairs between me and my clothes with dread. My legs burned and my shoulders were in agony by the time I got up the stairs. Somehow, I got up the gumption to get dressed and wait downstairs for my Mom to pick me up.
But I forgot my socks so back upstairs I went.
Fortunately there was about an hour still of waiting for Mom, so I got a little rest. I had 2 goals: grocery shopping and a run to the craft store. Mom wanted to stop at another store to pick up some stuff for the house, and I had to admit, I wanted to go as well anyway. I got some much needed stuff for my bedroom, so it wasn't for naught.
Next stop was Michael's. This is always a doozy for me. Every time I plan to go, I think it will be a quick run to pick up a few things. But I can't help but look at everything when I go. It's like a candy store. So many bits and baubles and inspiration around every turn. It's glorious!
Somehow, I managed to not get the very thing I went there to buy. I don't understand how a craft store can completely run out of black embroidery floss, but they did. Oh well, I'll buy it later.
Now for the groceries. As we pulled in, and I reminded Mom of my handicapped placard (lifesaver!), I thought, "OK, I've walked through all the other stores, so I can just take the scooter this time. It's probably best." Isn't it just my luck, there were none.
OK, I'll be dead on my feet by the end of the day, but I'll muddle through. A third of the way through the store and I'm ready to quit. But I really need to get some things, so I press on. What do I find when I finally check out? If you guessed "scooter" you were right. Figures, right?
By this time, I'm wiped out. Thank God for little brothers. Andrew and Evan were a huge help getting my groceries put away. I spent the rest of the night doing nothing. Ok, that's not true, I did get the non-perishables put away. Even after all I'd put myself through that day, I still had the urge to DO something. I resisted the urge to clean my room up a bit when I went to bed.
Exhausted as my day made me, I woke up early this morning. I always know it's going to be bad when I wake up early. It doesn't change how tired I am, I'm just awake. So, I'm expecting the next couple of days to be rough. I really hope I can make it to church on Sunday.
The moral of this story: It doesn't matter how much everyone else can manage in a day, never do more than you are capable of doing. A Little at a Time. Doing otherwise turns you into me: taking naps at 10 in the morning. Speaking of which, I'm heading upstairs. I need more sleep if I'm going to be up to my One Task tonight.
Hoping you all take everything A Little at a Time. (I eagerly look forward to questions or comments about my writing. Constructive criticism is also welcome. Thank you to all of you who read these and learn something from them.)
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