Another Update: Chronic Fatigue and the Foreseeable Future

Hey all,

Once again, I apologise for my long silence. I am still alive, and doing reasonably well, I suppose. By which I mean that my medication is helping to keep my anxiety and depression relatively in check.

I've been spending my days doing a lot of crocheting and knitting, and have finished a few projects, which has been really good. I've also been able to do a bit more reading and writing, as long as I don't have to spend too much energy on them.

This past week I was formally diagnosed with chronic fatigue, which basically confirms what I already knew. Of course, now that it's been diagnosed by a professional, I feel more able to talk about it and it's affect on my life.

Unfortunately, one of the main symptoms is brain fog. Which basically means that thinking kind of feels like I'm trying to drag myself through thick sludge, and it's really difficult and really exhausting. Like, just the effort of stringing words and sentences together for this is making me work overtime.

This has been going on for quite a while, hence my sporadic posting rate and long silences. As a result, I plan to take more of a proper break from blogging for the rest of the year. I hope to be able to start blogging in the new year, but know that I can't make any promises. It is, however, for me to be working on rebuilding my strength and stamina privately.

I will continue to write, but I will be keeping it private, for now.

I thank you all for your continued support and understanding.

God bless,
Laura Dee

Because He Died

As we celebrate Good Friday, I've been reflected on what Christ's death means for us all, but also for me personally. Especially during this time of personal suffering.

Here are some of my thoughts, arranged as bullet points because that's about where my head is at. I hope this encourages others as well as me!

Because He died:

• I don't have to sacrifice animals in order to atone for my sins - Christ has taken care of it all (Hebrews 10: 1 - 18)
• I can pray to God, assured that He hears me, no matter what the circumstances (Hebrews 10: 19 - 22)
• I have assurance that God will withhold no good thing from me (Romans 8: 32)
• I am assured God loves me, and nothing can change that, no matter what it may feel like (Romans 8: 35 - 39)
• God understands my pain and suffering (Mark 13: 34)

An Update

Hey all,

Once again, I find myself apologising and asking for your grace. Things have been very difficult for me. There is a lot of pain and a lot of hurt and I can't even really express it to myself.

I am still chugging along, I'm just finding it very difficult to be excited about, well, anything. Despite what it may look like to the people who see me regularly. And when it is hard to feel even a small amount of excitement, it is hard to get things done. Especially things that require a longer period of work.

Having said that, here are some things that have made me feel excited recently:

1) a good book - I ended up staying all night to read it. I paid for it dearly, but I did enjoy the reading of it.

2) I cooked some Korean food for my mum and my sisters - it tasted delicious, I was excited to share something of this culture I have been falling in love with, and I was proud of my accomplishment. Cooking is so much work!

3) my favourite Korean group released a new mini album recently. And that's had me dancing from time to time. Which takes a lot of work.

Still, those things that most other people take for granted take so much out of me. So it is really hard for me to manage daily life. Please forgive me.

I look forward to continuing to do life with you.

God bless,
Laura Dee

Hope in the Face of Another Year of Chronic Illness

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

Why are you so far from saving me,

From the words of my groaning?”

Psalm 22:1

Does your heart ever cry these words? Scream them? Bleed them?

My does. All the time these days. I wish it wasn’t so. I was hoping to start the year off with renewed confidence and assurance of God’s love and faithfulness.

Inside, I find myself growing angry and desperate as I feel more and more isolated from God. I feel abandoned. I feel beat down. I feel broken. I feel like the pot that slipped from the Potter’s hand and was swept into a corner. Forgotten.

Perhaps you do too.

Perhaps, you won’t feel scandalised if I - can you keep a secret? Lean in close, I’ll whisper it to you. The secret guilt that’s been gnawing at my heart.

I feel betrayed by God.

There. It’s said.

I feel betrayed.

Perhaps you’ve felt that too?

And my attention gets drawn to passages of promise for renewal and comfort. To the truth of the Cross and the reminder of God’s love in saving me from my sins. And they are meant to comfort me. To encourage me. To strengthen me.

But, the truth is, they are of little comfort. They seem cold and impersonal. Proof only that God cares for the state of our souls, not for me, personally. Not for me as I struggle with depression. Not for me as I battle with depression. Not for me as I face the possibility of chronic fatigue. Not for me as I struggle to make sense of the tatters of my life. Not for me as I struggle to figure out what I’m supposed to do now. Not for me who sees no end to the struggle other than death.

And where does one find hope in all this? How does one feel it?

But then, maybe I’m asking the wrong question. Because maybe hope isn’t actually a feeling. Maybe it’s a verb. A choice. A choice to believe the promises of renewal and comfort. A choice to believe in the unfailing love of God. A choice to not give up.

And the Bible does promise us that God cares. That God loves us. That God will renew us. Psalm 22 continues:

“For He has not despised or abhorred

The affliction of the afflicted,

And He has not hidden His face from him,

But has heard, when he cried out to Him…

The Afflicted shall eat and be satisfied;

Those who seek Him shall praise the Lord.”

Psalm 22: 24, 26

And perhaps, maybe, hope really is a verb. And sure, maybe I can’t practice my hope in God in any bold or significant way. But maybe, just maybe, choosing to face another hour, another day of this beat down, messed up life, is act of hope enough.

Some Beautiful Things

It's been two months since I last posted. I've been struggling to find the words and the courage to say what I want to say. I have some things written, but I don't know if I'm ready to post them yet. So, instead, I'll share photos of some of the beautiful things I've seen over the last couple of months. Enjoy!

The Continuing Struggle

Hey y'all,

This is just a quick post to tell you that I'm really struggling at the moment. As a result of this, I won't be posting articles over December.

I would still like to post short things, to help me stay in the mind set of blogging and to stay connected with you, the reader. To help me do this, I thought I'd do a Q&A style series. Basically, if you have a question for me, comment it or send it to me. If I am able, I will post an answer on this blog.

Of course, if I don't get questions, I'll have to figure out something else to do. Which could prove very hard for me. So please, ask questions!

Also, if you're the praying type, please pray for me. I really need it.

Thanks for everything, guys!
Laura Dee

Dear Australia: We Need to Talk About Manus Island

I'll be honest, it wasn't until this weekend that I became aware of what has been happening with Manus Island. So this may seem like me jumping on a bandwagon, but the very fact that I didn't know is a large part of why I'm writing this.

We need to talk about Manus Island.

But first, do you remember the horror that happened in Aleppo nearly a year ago? Do you remember little Bana Alabed tweeting her story, begging for help?

Because I didn't.

I cried when it happened. Then I forgot. I got distracted.

Yesterday, I picked up her book. I read her story all over again. I felt sick.

Sick that I had forgotten. Sick that I had contributed to the struggles of refugees around the world by my silence. So I made a decision: no more.

Manus Island is full of Bana Alabeds. Men, women, children. None of whom asked for this. They didn't ask for the situation at home to get so bad that running was all they could do. They did not ask to be stripped of freedom, safety and security. But they were.

So, they did what every living creature does when threatened: they chose between fight, flight or freeze.

Well, I say "chose". There want much choice, really. Freezing was deadly, and fighting not much better. That meant flight, as risky as it was, was the only option left for them.

They fled to what they thought would be safety, only for it to disappear like a mirage in the desert.

We did that to them. That is not okay.

I understand how easy it is to forget that those on Manus Island are people, fellow human beings. People that could have been our friends, our family.

They have fled from a destroying boulder, only to find themselves at a precipice. Please don't push them off. Please don't abandon them.

They have thrown themselves at our feet and begged us for mercy.

Now we must decide.

We must decide what kind of people we want to be. Do we want to be a people of compassion? Or a people who despise those who are different? Do we want to be a people who help the hurting? Or a people who cause the hurting?

Our history is marred enough. We have a chance to chance our narrative. Let's change it.

PNG is not safe for refugees. We know that. Don't ignore it.

Bring them here. Allow them to go to New Zealand. Help give them freedom. Help establish them with safe homes and food.

If these words have made you want to find out more, or do more, I'd recommend visiting The Australian Refugee Action Network. Please, please, please, don't do nothing.

With love,

Laura Dee