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

The Origins of Comfort

Today, the word "comfort" is used to indicate physical or emotional ease. It is also used to talk about the act of easing someone's distress. In both cases, the focus is on the absence, or reduction, of difficulties.

Would it surprise you to know that this is not what the word originally meant?

Those of you who are musical might make a connection between "comfort" and "forte". This would not be wrong. Both come from the Latin word "fortis", which means strong.

This, combined with the suffix "com-", became the Latin word "confortare", meaning strengthen. The French then adapted the word "confort" (noun) and "conforter" (verb), before it joined middle English as "comfort".

At the time, the meaning was still very similar to the Latin. As a verb, comfort meant to strengthen, support and console. This seems to imply that the purpose of consoling and supporting a friend was to strengthen them. Perhaps so they could handle the challenges facing them.

My question, then, is: how might knowing this affect the way we comfort each other?

I'd love to hear your thoughts below!

Reclaiming Pieces of Me

Dear friend, come in!

Today, my recommendation is to grab your favourite drink! After all, that's part of what makes you who you are. And that's what I'm talking about today.

Who I am.

One of the amazing things about this time I've been taking for my health is that it's been forcing me to spend time with myself. Really, properly myself. Without assignments and business to hide behind. Without other people's expectations to fit into. The result of this is that I've begun to reclaim pieces of myself I thought I had lost, or doubted that I ever had.

I know I've touched on this is previous posts, but I wanted to talk about it more today.

Over the last month when I haven't been posting, I have still been writing. I've started writing poetry again. I used to love it, then I stopped.

I've been writing short stories again. I've been building worlds, creating characters. I've been writing creatively, for the fun of it. And each time I do, I walk away feeling just that little bit more like me.

See, I think that part of the challenge over the last few years is that I've been trying to fit into what other people want. I folded away my creativity so I could focus on academia. I regulated my spiritual life so that I could be approved of. I buried my confidence so that I wouldn't stand out.

I had spent my life being different. I wasn't always liked for it, I wasn't always happy about it, but I accepted it. With uni, I decided to try being the same. And that hasn't been working for me.

Because I'm not the same. I'm a girl who jumps around the house while she's reading because she gets so excited. I'm a girl who runs in the rain, and come in soaked to the skin. I'm a girl who'll turn up the music and dance around my room.

I'm a girl who loves tea and chocolate. I'm a girl who adores flowers. I'm a girl who walks in imaginary worlds.

I'm a girl who speaks best with pen and paper. I'm a girl who loves exploring the world through the camera lense. I'm a girl who'll spend hours looking at yarn and gets excited over lace patterns. I'm a girl who bakes new things and wants to share it.

I'm a girl who wears leather and heels, and has tattoos. I'm a girl who wears pink dresses. I'm a girl who wears long skirts and nice blouses.

I'm a girl who has lived in many different places, and therefore sees the world a little differently. I'm a girl who is learning to love herself, just the way I am. I am a girl who loves God and trusts Him with her life.

I'm all this and more.

And you know what the best thing is? As I've been reclaiming bits of who I am, I can almost hear God cheering in the background, celebrating as I discover the part of His extraordinary Creation that is me.

I still have a long way to go - this is a process that will take my entire life. But I have a question for you today: who are you? What do you love?

I'm starting to realise that one of the best ways we can love and serve God is by embracing who He made us to be and then sharing that.

So love the Lord with all your heart, be yourself and share that with the world.

Love,
Laura Dee

PS I'd love to share my poetry with you all. Why don't you join me on Instagram where I will be posting it? And photos, of course

PPS enjoy these photos from my holidays!

I'm back!

Hello, dear friend,

Pull up a chair and a hot drink. Today I recommend a chilli hot chocolate. I'm partial, as the staff and my local chocolate bar can testify!

I want to apologise for my long silence! It didn't happen intentionally. I went away for holidays and then came back exhausted and unmotivated. Which escalated into discouragement. And so here I am - a month late. But here. And that feels like such an achievement.

You will also have to forgive me the lack of any clear structure or purpose to this post - I decided the only way I was going to bd able to kick this slump was by posting something - anything! So you get this.

Fear not, I will be back tomorrow with my regular schedule - there are some gorgeous photos I'm excited to share with you from the last month. And since exciting news!

So, until tomorrow!

With love,
Laura Dee

The Persistence of Life

Hello friend!

Pull up a chair, grab a cuppa. For myself, I have a mug of my favourite peach tea.

Today, I'm going back to sharing what I'm grateful for. Yay for nothing major happening! Anyway, stick with me, because this is awesome!

So, a few months ago, I decided to plant some irises. I bought a packet of seeds and buried them in soil. The next day, I was given a bucket of uprooted irises from a different part of our garden. I replanted some of them, but left a few in the bucket. The intention was for those to die and then I'd compost them.

Except, that didn't happen.

Instead the plants in the bucket continued to thrive. When I went out to check on them all a week ago, I noticed something peculiar: one of the bucket irises had a bud on it! I checked the others: none of them had buds. Just this one plant that had been abandoned to die.

It took my breath away! The persistence of this plant, in continuing to grow and flower even though it wasn't planted in soil and it hadn't been watered in months! It was awe inspiring.

Not long afterwards, I was out to lunch with my grandparents. We were watching a flock of seagulls when one of them landed on the table next to us. We looked, then looked again in surprise: the seagull had only one leg!

I snapped a photo of it as soon as I could, then spent a solid five minutes watching this bird as it flew faster than all the others. It stole chips from tables when the others didn't dare come near. This one-legged bird was filled with sass and courage. And for the second time that day, I found myself wondering at the persistence of life.

And as I thought of this, I was reminded of these verses from Luke 12: 24-28

Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you then the birds! And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? If then you are not able to do as small a thing as that, why are you anxious about the rest? Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothed the grace, which is alive in the field today, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you, O you of little faith!

Now, this has not miraculously cured my anxiety. And if you struggle with anxiety, please don't hear me say that you are somehow wrong, or less, or especially sinful. Anxiety, the kind I'm refering to anyway, is an actual medical disorder. It is part of the result of us being broken humans living in a broken world. God knows we are only dust (Psalm 103:14). I believe He understands the very real, battle with anxiety we face.

What I am saying, however, is that ultimately we can trust God. He is the God that sustains an unplanted iris and brings it to flower. He is the God that strengthens and feeds a one-legged seagull. He is the God who cares for us, in the most adverse of circumstances. Sometimes, that will mean dancing again after years of debilitating illness. Sometimes that will mean surviving overdose. And sometimes it will mean He decides to end our suffering by taking us home.

Whatever happens, we can be sure that God cares for us, and true life will persist in spite of every horror the world can through our way. Including death.

So, friends, please be encouraged. Please look to the Cross and the Resurrection: the promise and proof of forgiveness of sins, and life everlasting.

With love,
Laura Dee

Trust and Fear: Mutually Exclusive?

A couple of weeks ago, I told the first half of my adventure of running out of petrol. This week, I bring to you the stunning conclusion!

So, Dad came back with rope and tied my car to his. He then told me how this was going to work and got back into his car.

I took a couple of deep breaths, and then let myself and my car be pulled.

Let me tell you, it was one of the most nerve-wracking experiences of my life. All I could do was press on the brake and turn the wheel. And even that was limited. I was totally at the mercy of my dad's driving. I was so not in control.

We maneuvered the streets of Penrith, me following my dad's lead and trying not to freak out too much. Trying not to concentrate on the fact that my car was being pulled along by a rope and that there was no margin for error.

It's not that I didn't trust my dad. Quite the contrary - I was putting more active trust in him than I had since I was very, very young. This time, for the first time in a very long time it was my life on the line. And I let him lead. I obeyed every direction he gave me. It was a combination of not having another option and knowing my dad would get me there safely.

And I did. I knew Dad wouldn't take unnecessary risks. I know he wouldn't put my life in danger.

But that didn't stop me from being scared. Terrified, even.

I had to remind myself a couple of times that yes, I was not in control, but that was OK, Dad was and I could trust him.

Then, even as my hands gripped my steering wheel and my foot hovered over my brakes, I had to laugh.

Because isn't that all of life? Especially as a Christian? We know we're not in control of our own lives. We have to actively choose to trust God, even though we don't know where we're turning next. Even though we can't know what's going to happen.

And it was the first time I'd realized, properly realized, that trust and fear are not mutually exclusive.

For a long time, I have believed, on whatever level, that if I truly trusted God, I would not be afraid. I would not be anxious. After all, the Bible often talks about us not being afraid, God has got this. And so, especially over this last year or so, I have felt shame that I was afraid. That I was struggling with the uncertainty of my life. I have wondered if that means I don't have faith, or if my trust is weak.

And there was an enormous sense of freedom when I realised what was happening on the road that day. When I realised that yes, I was afraid. Yes, the uncertainty was making my heart race. But no, that did not mean I did not trust my dad. In fact, I was trusting him more than I ever had. I was letting him take control and direct me in spite of all my fears. I was fighting back against them.

And I laughed when I realised that applied to my relationship with God as well. Yes, I am afraid. Yes, the uncertainty is making my heart race. No, that does not mean I don't trust him. I am trusting Him now more than I have for a while. I am letting Him take control and direct in spite of all my fears. And that's what counts.

God does not hold my fear against me, anymore than my dad did. He knows who I am. He remembers that I am made of dust. What matters to Him is that I continue to trust Him to bring me safely home, that I continue to obey His directions for my life, even - especially - in those times when I am acutely aware that I am not in control.

A Difficult Fortnight

Hello friend!

Right now, I'm wishing I could tell you that the last fortnight had been amazing, through up a few pictures and be done. However, that would not be honest. So, I'll proceed instead with the truth.

This fortnight has been terrible.

The first week didn't feel so bad. At least, I didn't notice it being particularly bad at the time. Sure, I want sleeping so well, sure I was wanting to cry at random times for unknown reasons, and sure it was getting harder and harder to get out of bed, but, you know, the week before was busy. I thought I was just tired.

That Saturday, a friend of mine came for lunch. That was good fun, but as soon as he left, I crawled into bed and barely managed to get out to feed myself.

The next morning, Sunday, I woke up feeling slightly better. Yay! I'd turned a corner. You may or may not have noticed this, but I'm very good at fooling myself. My mood and my energy kept plummeting, until at about 12:45, I was so over everything, that I swallowed two dozen aspirin.

Yep, I overdosed. Intentionally.

To be clear, the overdose was not a suicide attempt. I was just tired, stressed, wanting a break, wanting to hurt myself and in such a bad place that overdosing seemed the way to do it. The amount I took was not a lethal amount. Still, in the spirit of total honesty, if something had gone wrong, if I had died, I would not have been sorry.

Fortunately, one of my housemate rushed me to the hospital, where I was taken care of. I didn't even have to spend the night. My mum came to visit the next day, and I've spent the week visiting professionals and spending time with friends who looked after me.

Still, I had a horrible night on Thursday, and ended up with drawings all the way up my left arm (a thing I do instead of cutting). Friday morning, my head was a mess, my emotions were a mess and I was exhausted. I went to see the people I was scheduled to see, before collapsing on a friend's trampoline with a book and a rabbit.

I slept much better last night, and enjoyed a slow day, a picnic and a walk in a park. The worst complaint I have right now is a headache and tiredness.

So, before I finish, I want to mention some of the things I'm grateful fur this week:
The rabbit.
Flowers.
Friends who have been praying for me.
Friends who have cooked for me.
Friends who have given me room to speak and try to start processing the overdose.
My generous housemates.
My family.
And, more than anything, God's love and grace.

 The meantime, thank you! And if you are of the praying kind, I'd really appreciate some prayer!

Laura Dee
xox

Not the Plan

I had it all planned out. I would leave my parents place at 4, run an errand, fill up my tank and then by 4:30 I would be on the road to my friend's house. Everything would go smoothly, I would arrive there at 5:30 and we'd go to church at 6:30. See? All planned!

Of course, I had forgotten to factor in the big game happening across the road. The area was parked up for a two block radius. By the time I had found a park, walked to the shops, grabbed what I wanted and walked back it was already 4:30. I chewed on my lip, decided not to stress and just drive to the petrol station.

Two minutes later saw my car refusing to start at a roundabout. With my nose jutting out slightly. I was completely out of gas.

I started freaking out. I couldn't stay where I was. I couldn't move. I needed to ring my parents. This was not part of the plan.

Questions swirled: should I stay where I was and hope for the best? Should I get out and push my own car? Should I get out and ask the guy in the car behind me for help? What was I going to do?

I started breathing too fast. My hands were shaking. I was terrified.

Just then, I saw that the guy behind me had gotten out of his car and was walking towards me. I took a deep breath, composed myself, and rolled down my window. I didn't know what to expect.

"Put her in neutral and I'll push you around the corner." He wasn't yelling at me! I breathed a sigh of relief, then thanked him.

He pushed me around the corner and I coasted forward, stopping across a driveway. Well, at least I was no longer sitting with my nose sticking into potential traffic at a roundabout.

I pulled out my phone. I called Mum. No answer. Freak out resumed.

The guy who had helped me pulled up and came over again. I rolled my window down again and explained that I was out of petrol. He asked if I needed any help and I told him I was going to ring my parents. He looked relieved then offered to push me again so that I wasn't over the driveway.

I called Dad. Immediately, he came out with some petrol to put into my tank. For a brief moment, it looked like it was working. Then the car stopped again and wouldn't start. Dad hopped back in his car and drove to the nearest petrol station to get more fuel.

This time, we poured 5 litres in. The engine was turning over, but kept sputtering to a stop before any real success was achieved.

Dad popped the hood. Nothing. We conferred briefly and he jumped back in his car to go get some rope.

At this point, it was 5:30. I was starting to realise that I wasn't going to make it to my friends house on time! So yeah. This is not the way I planned it. At all.

And I couldn't help but see the similarities between this incident and my life.

I let myself go too long without taking proper care of myself. "Just a little while longer. I can do this! It's sorted". I knew I had emotional scars and suspected that I had depression, but I was coping. At least, I was getting stuff done.

Then came the anxiety attacks. The signs that I really had gone too far and my body was going to force me to stop. So I did. Sort of. I got someone to push me for a little while and mistook that for "all better!".

I got stuck again. I got some more help. I tried to start up again. It looked like it was going to work. Then came the start of uni and the realisation that I could not handle it just then. That was not part of the plan.

But that is where I ended up. Sitting in my car, re-evaluating my plans and not knowing when, or even if, I'd be able to carry on with my original plans. And I'm terrified.

Spring is Coming!!

Hey guys!

Sorry this is so late in the day, but it was afull on week, so I took today really slowly. Which was much needed and greatly enjoyed!

First of all, I want to thank everyone who took time to answer the question in my survey! The answers were all really helpful! If you haven't had a chance to answer those questions, the survey will be open for another week, and can be found here. I'd love it if you could head on over there and answer them. They're helping me made this blog a lot better!

Secondly, this one is mostly pictorial: because spring is coming and it makes me so happy!! It helps that I have the time and the energy to really pay attention this year. Have there always been this many birds, flowers, and insects around, or have I just been really tunnel-visioned?

Anyway, enjoy these beautiful sights!!

Thank you!
Laura Dee

May I ask for your help?

Hello friends!

Today, I'm starting those steps towards the promised content I've been talking about for ages!

First of all, I want to say a huge thank you to everyone who has been reading and praying for me. I know I haven't been the most regular blogger ever, so it really does mean so much that people care enough to check in when I do post.

Second of all, I am going to continue with my gratitude/update posts. I seem to be getting those done on a fortnightly basis, so, for the time being I will stick to a fortnightly schedule. On the alternative week in the cycle, I will have a mid-week post. This will focus more on some of the topics and issues I've mentioned in passing over the last few months. Namely: trusting in God through suffering and lament.

This is where you come in. In order to help me with focusing the posts, and even just my own thinking, I would love your input. To do that, I'd really appreciate it if you could head over to this link and answer three short questions about lament and suffering.

Once you've done that, I'd love it if you could share this post with the link around as I would love to hear from as many people as possible.

Once again, thank you so much for everything. I'm looking forward to hearing from you all,

Laura Dee

Driving Without a Destination

So, it's been a couple of weeks since I posted, but there should be an increasing regularity of posts from here on out. I actually have drafts!! But for now, I'm going to share what I'm grateful for this fortnight!

1) the return of my creativity! Or, more accurately, the return of my ability to exercise it. This has been showing up in the increasing of knitting, writing, cooking, baking, room arranging and photography I've been doing. You have no idea how excited I am for this! The more anxious and depressed I became, the less I engaged in the creative stuff I love, and I didn't even realise it. It's only been this last fortnight that I've really noticed my creativity resurfacing, and it genuinely makes me so, so happy. Because when I did think about it, I either thought I must have imagined ever being creative or that I would never be creative again. Both options scared me.

2) This is pretty much all today. Which isn't to say that there hasn't been other stuff in thankful for over the last two weeks, but today was a wonderful day.

Yesterday, I asked God to help me feel the immediacy, the reality, of His presence and love in my life. And today He answered spectacularly. Which isn't to say I'm miraculously better, just that today was a day I in which I felt comforted, loved and refreshed.

My day started before sunrise, and had lasted nearly 12 hours (so  I am actually feeling very tired), but I've spent the entire day driving around without a plan or a specific destination in mind. I've visited state parks, beaches, lookouts and my favorite tea shops. Throughout the day, God has been showing me some pretty awesome stuff, gifts for my heart, if you will. But I won't bore you with words! Take a look for yourselves!

Love,
Laura Dee