Leaving on a jet plane

Right at this very exciting moment, I am actually constructing this blog post from more than twenty thousand feet in the air.  The sky is azure blue with layers of whispy clouds which appear as rows and rows of puffy cotton balls.  No, I am not dreaming.  No, I AM NOT DREAMING!  I am squeezed into my "comfy" seat by the window peering out of the Southwest plane.  Woo hoo!   My hero hubby is seated beside me intently reviewing a manuscript and notes for his upcoming seminar.  Fun.  For me, I am about to embark on a small adventure away from East Lyme, Ct.  Wow!  

 Where are we flying?  We are flying to Austin, Tx.  Michael just happens to be attending a workshop for a few days, and we are fortunate to be able to visit our son who is currently a junior at the Univ of Texas.  How cool is that??  Very cool. This opportunity could not be passed up.  Easy decision, right?  Well, not exactly.  

For the past seven years since my illness, I don't make decisions easily.  Not.one.bit.   Living with chronic M, on some days, makes stepping outside to walk to the mailbox a near impossible feat.  I am not kidding.  When those days drag on and on, I tend to lose my strength as well as courage to look forward to anything in the category that might be titled, "adventurous".  However, since I have been responding more positively to a new treatment regimen as well as acquiring an awesome headache specialist, this year I made up my mind that I was going to give "adventure" a new go of it. And a new go of it, it is!  

As I have mentioned in previous posts about preparing to attend an important event or special family gathering that might be an all day function, it takes me a ridiculous amount of time and bag of tricks to even help me manage.  So, in preparation for a week away in a hotel and flying on planes, I started to hit the panic button.  It took my dear family and amazing friends to encourage me not to freak out.  They said, "just try".  Two simple words.  Just try. 

How will I know what I can and cannot manage unless I "just try"? 

A big part of living with this debilitating illness is the fear.  Another is the anxiety.  I am not ashamed to say so, either.  I will keep writing and sharing, authentically, my journey.   If my story is to inspire and help others along their way, then I cannot be afraid to tell of my messy and broken. The only way to get to the bright side is to sludge through the mud at times. It isn't all a smooth path.  It is actually a welcomed path for more opportunities for God to work His miracles of continual grace and love.  

Now while I was carefully packing for this adventure, I made sure NOT to pack M Monster.  I told him on no uncertain terms that he was not allowed to accompany me to try and derail me from having a good time.  I thought all was going well until the morning that we were to depart.  There from across the room, as we were checking out, stood that M Monster laughing his sinister head off with that smirk on his face.  I thought to myself that I was seeing things.  What???  Arghhhhhhh!!!  Nooooo!  Blasted.  The shooting pain in my eye started and then the other all too familiar symptoms followed.  Instead of throwing a M Meltdown, I thought it best to pull myself together, medicate, and march forward to board the plane.   With that, my sweet hubby took my hand and told me that all was going to be just fine.  We would get to Austin even with Mr M.  He helped me "find my brave".  

I plan on sightseeing and spending time with our son while taking a sneak peek into his college world for a few days.  I hope to enjoy some warmer weather and get some good exercise by walking.   Michael and I are just happy to get out of dodge for awhile and break away from our same old, same old.  I feel confident that this short trip is exactly the perfect way to begin the Lenten season.  I am planning on fasting from fear and anxiety while feasting on trust and surrender. It is time to, once again, journey into the desert with our Lord and listen to His voice while drawing closer to Him through suffering.  

If you observe the Lenten season, I wish you a holy and meaningful forty days in the desert.