Rheumatoid Disease - There is Hope!

#RDBlog Week 2018

It's that time of year again and, as usual, there is more I could write if only I had the time. So, I would like to kick off my participation by telling you what I want you to know most: there is hope!

I began this blog four years ago after I was diagnosed with rheumatoid disease (or rheumatoid arthritis, as many people know it). At that time, I had no hope. I took the information the doctor gave me and found a few sites online that gave me more knowledge about the disease, and became terrified. I had already begun the process of self-diagnosis, looking up what it meant to have a huge degree of pain in my hands at feet, especially early in the morning. When the doctor gave me the news, I was dismayed but not too surprised.

I'm not sure which scared me more - the disease itself or the medications to treat it. I had just lost my dad to lung cancer and saw him go through enormous pain and suffering being treated with chemotherapy, so the idea of taking methotrexate was terrifying. Biologics were just coming onto the market and while some people were having remarkable success with them, others were having life-threatening scares with reactions that left them in the hospital. Fortunately, I was able to put off taking any anti-rheumatic drugs for awhile, as I got used to the idea of having RA.

Six months after my diagnosis, I had shoulder surgery on a rotator cuff I had torn. When I wasn't recovering on schedule, the orthopedist told me I had to get on a DMARD (anti-rheumatic drug) or I would not do well, as he already found erosions in my shoulder that were caused by my RA. I went on Plaquenil (hydroxychloroquine). I have been on it ever since, with few if any side effects. It's not conclusive if it caused my psoriasis, yet another autoimmune disease, but it's mild enough that I have decided I can live with that as long as my RA is under control using the Plaquenil.

When I was first diagnosed, I cried because I thought my life outdoors with my husband would be over. I am here to tell you that it wasn't and it still isn't! Since that time, we have hiked in the Canadian Rockies, the Grand Canyon and Costa Rica. We still paddle the bayous and lakes in and around Texas, and I went whitewater kayaking (just Class 1-2) in Arkansas for the first time two years ago! We even joined the Banff Canoe Club when we were on vacation there.

Life with RA means you have to take care of yourself. You have to go at a slower pace, eating right and getting plenty of rest. Stress can really take its toll, and so you have to manage it. Exercise is important, but you have to pace yourself or you might throw yourself into a flare. I have learned that RA is the weirdest disease ever, too, because your pain can migrate all over your body! I have experienced RA symptoms not only in my hands and my feet, but also in my neck, knees, elbows, hips, jaw and even in my armpits! I have learned that ice packs, heat packs and anti-inflammatories are my friend. So are massages....mmmm, so good! And don't forget other people with RA as well. I couldn't have gotten through the past few years without the support of my friends, both old and new. RA has given me the gift of friendship with some wonderful people who are blogging about their disease as well. They inspire me to keep doing what I'm doing!

If you read this blog, you'll see that it is spiritually based. While those of us with RA can give you all the tips in the world, God can give you something more: peace. There is something about knowing He has everything under control, even when we can't see it or feel it, that gives me the ability to keep pushing through the hard days. I also find a lot of gratitude with Him by my side. Even though my life has changed, I never forget how truly blessed I am.

I will be writing more this week about specific topics chosen for this year's #RDBlog Week. In the meantime, feel free to click through old posts of mine, or head over to Pack Health, a support organization I write for. I shared some tips for living your best life with RA there for #RDBlog Week 2018.

I hope you come back here to visit and please leave your name and a comment so I can get to know you as well! Praying you will have a blessed day. ((Gentle hugs))

Peace, joy and love to you today,

Linda

Rheumatoid Disease - There is Hope! originally appeared on Spring Sight blog, by Linda W. Perkins. Click here for more posts. Get even more encouragement by following me on Facebook. 

Healing from Within: Turning Away from Toxicity

"Set your mind on things above, not on earthly things." - Colossians 3:2

What if I were to tell you that there is a way to start healing your body immediately, without any drugs or special diets? Would you try it?

There isn’t anyone I know, especially within the chronic illness community, who wouldn't say yes. We are all longing for something to make us feel better.

The burden of chronic illness is not apparent to those outside of our world. We may look fine on the outside, and may even be able to perform our daily activities as if we were not ill. But those of us who have lived with illness day after day, year after year, know the burdens we carry. They are not light. There is a heaviness in our hearts, knowing that we will never get well.

As our symptoms come and go, and the bottles of medicines stack up on our nightstands, we are reminded that we are not like other people. We hesitate to make plans in advance, for we don’t know how we will feel that day. We cancel lunches with friends we love because they’ve come down with a bad cold, and if we catch it, that may take us down a path we can’t recover from.

We watch what we eat, we do the exercises that are prescribed, we get stuck with needles on a regular basis, and we go to countless doctor visits. Sometimes it feels like all we have time for is tending to our health. It’s draining.

What I’ve recently realized, however, is that there’s something that can make us feel even worse: toxic thinking. That can take a variety of forms, from self-pity to anger at family members who just don’t “get” that you’re really sick. One particular topic that has been top-of-mind and become quite toxic for me, however, is politics. It’s something I’ve always enjoyed discussing and debating, but lately, not so much. And while you may not think it’s relevant to this blog, read on.

God is Listening

"But in my distress I cried out to the Lord; yes, I prayed to my God for help.

He heard me from his sanctuary; my cry to him reached his ears." - Psalm 18:6 (NLT)

As I look across this room today, I am sick of being sick. After battling an upper respiratory infection for weeks, with a cough that just won’t go away, on top of a painful shoulder and a sore foot, I am tired of hurting.

This is an unexpected feeling, because before Christmas, I was feeling pretty good. I felt like I was pretty much in remission with my RA, and I began a diet, hoping to get my pre-RA figure back.

Alas, with rheumatoid arthritis – or life in general, I guess - nothing is ever a straight line.

That is where trust comes in. Trust in myself? Ha, I wish. I’ve been down that road before, thinking that if I just try harder or work smarter, it will all work out. Unfortunately, I can’t control every facet of my life, the least of which is my chronic illness.

I don’t like being told I’m not in control. I am a linear thinker, which means I want to know that if I am in control of the input, then I can control the output. That isn’t real life, though, is it? There are so many variables, only a few of which I am really in control of.

I am fortunate to have found a good program, Pack Health, about a year ago, which set me on the path to taking better care of myself. I’ve been able to apply the strategies to my life and as a result, I feel much better overall. I’ve even begun writing blog pieces for them, so that others may benefit from my experience. That said, no program can prevent all the curveballs that autoimmune diseases can throw at us.

For me, the most frustrating aspect of living with RA is the inability to heal. I thought I was never going to recover from my shoulder surgery two years ago. I did, but not without a lot of hard work, some extra time, and only with the help of a DMARD (disease modifying anti-rheumatic drug). I hadn’t needed to be on a DMARD before, but my doctor made it clear I would never fully recover the use of my shoulder without reducing the inflammation in my body. Wow, what a difference!

Yet here I am again, with the other shoulder’s torn rotator cuff…and despite months of physical therapy, it still hurts. And while I was just feeling good about a daily walk through the neighborhood with my husband, along comes a constant pain in the bottom of my foot. In between visits to my physical therapist, my rheumatologist and my primary care physician (for that pesky sinus infection), I might actually make it to the podiatrist. Joy…another new medical experience!

Not to sound like negative Nellie, but sometimes you just have to get real. You know what I mean?

I tell you why I’m sharing all of my frustrations here. It’s so you know that I understand where you’re at. I know exactly how it feels to be fed up. Or maybe we should call it “beat up” because sometimes that’s more like it, isn’t it? The pain is more than just physical; it’s emotional too. I don’t know about you, but there are days I just want to curl up in bed, throw the covers over my head, and quit.

You know what keeps me going, though? It’s that still, small voice that says “I’m not finished yet.”

Yes, I believe it when God says in Jeremiah 29:11 that He has a plan for my life and it’s a good one. I believe Him when He says He doesn’t start something He isn’t planning to finish. And somehow, I don’t think He’s done with me yet.

There are enough times in the Bible that God says “Do not fear…I will go with you” to let me know that even right now, while I’m ready to give up, He is with me, cheering me on. Sometimes, it’s seeing a news clip that makes me realize I’m really not so bad off after all, compared with them, anyway. At other times, it’s my daughter, who makes me smile and yet also makes me see how much she needs me. And when I look back over my life, I can see where God really has been there during the hard times, carrying me until I could get back on my feet and walk again.

I know that when I close my eyes and pray, my prayers are heard. He hears my cries. I know, because at some point, the pain stops – even if just for a few moments – and I can feel His peace and His presence.

Whatever you are struggling with today, whether it is chronic illness or something else, you can be confident in a God who loves you and cares for you. He hears your cries too and says, through the words of Jesus, “Come to me, lay down your burdens, and I will give you rest.”

Peace, love and joy to you today.

Linda

God is Listening originally appeared on Spring Sight blog, by Linda W. Perkins. Click here for more posts. Get even more encouragement by following me on Facebook and Twitter. 

Many of Spring Sight's posts can also be found each week on Crystal Storms' Thoughtful Thursday,  Kelly Balarie's #RaRaLinkUp, Holly Barrett's Testimony Tuesday, Holley Gerth's Coffee for Your Heart, and Woman to Woman's Word Filled Wednesday. I also link up often with Jennifer Dukes Lee and Dawn at Journeys in Grace, as well as with Lori Schumaker.

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Familial Guilt: Is It My Fault? Is It Theirs?

"Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he would be born blind?" – John 9:2

I received a call from a dear family friend the other day. I hadn’t heard from her in a while and she needed to talk. After we got through a few minutes of small talk, she said she had to share something important with me: her teenage daughter had been diagnosed with glaucoma.

It began with a straightforward statement and explanation of the doctor’s finding. But then, mid-sentence, she broke down in tears.

“I feel so awful!” she cried. “The doctor says it’s genetic. It’s my fault!”

I listened as my sweet friend poured out her heart to me, so broken that her own genetic makeup – including several chronic illnesses – had been passed down to the next generation.

Familial guilt is all too common…and all too painful.

Just ask the parents of a child who has gone astray. No matter what they may have done right, their question is always “Where did we go wrong?” We blame ourselves when our perfect little babies don’t stay so perfect.

Finding Perfection in the Imperfect

How can a mere mortal presume to stand up to God?  How can an ordinary person pretend to be guiltless? Why, even the moon has its flaws, even the stars aren’t perfect in God’s eyes – Job 25:4-5

Two years ago, when I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis, I would never have imagined myself saying the words that came out of my mouth last weekend.

“I am already living my dream, every day!”

I was standing in front of a table at a Christian writers conference, where an author and consultant was doing a prize drawing. All I had to do in order to enter was to write down my “big dream” on the paper covering the table.

I explained that I would have to think on it. As we chatted, I mentioned that I had several chronic illnesses, including RA. The consultant immediately jumped on it.

“Well, I’m sure that’s probably your big dream – to be healed!”

Even to my own surprise, I found myself replying, “Actually, no. That isn’t.”

If you’re a spoonie (someone who suffers from a chronic illness) like me, you’re probably sitting there with a look of disbelief on your face, as you read what I just wrote.

Releasing the Ghosts of the Past

“No, dear brothers and sisters, I have not achieved it, but I focus on this one thing: Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead.” Philippians 3:13 (NLT)

I hadn’t looked at my high school yearbooks in years. There was no need. That was then. This is now. I had moved on. Or so I thought.

As I reached up into the living room cabinet and took one down, I could feel the memories flooding back. Opening the cover, I could hear the spine crackling, as if the book was an ancient artifact, fragile from years of storage.

I felt a sense of dread come over me. Sure, there were some good times back then, but buried in that book were memories that haunted me right down to the core of my soul. These were not just a few bad moments. These were the kinds of ghosts that I had spent years trying to exorcise from my mind, the kinds that would keep me locked up in a prison of guilt and shame, remorse and regret.

What Doesn't Kill Me Makes Me Stronger

“In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” – John 16:33

I looked around me at the women in the pool, watching as their gray-haired heads bobbed up and down to the beat of the loud music. Their wrinkled, sagging skin told me they had at least 10 or 20 years on me, and yet I was the one struggling to keep up.

When we finally got to the end of class, I commented to one lady, “Wow, this water aerobics isn’t for sissies, is it?” She just shrugged and smiled. She was there every day. To her, it was no biggie. To me, this was more than a struggle. It was a matter of life and death.

At the Crossroads: Go This Way!

“Your ears will hear sweet words behind you: ‘Go this way. There is your path; this is how you should go’ whenever you must decide whether to turn to the right or the left.” – Isaiah 30:21 (VOICE)

It was a rough night. I tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable. My head was aching and my heart was pounding, as the thoughts continued to whirl around in my mind. “Give me peace, Lord,” I prayed, but peace wasn’t to come. Deep inside me, a battle was raging. A battle between truth and deception. A struggle to discern what was right, and ultimately, which way to go.

Crossroads in life are rarely comfortable. I’m not talking about the easy, yes-no decisions we make every day. I’m talking about the hard ones. The ones that come with a cost, especially if you make a mistake. The ones that can be gut wrenching and keep you up at night.

There I was, at a crossroads, again.

I don’t like these places. They scare me. I want the facts to be clear, the decision cut and dried, the answer to be easy. But that’s rarely the case, is it?

So often, those crossroads moments sneak up on us. A sideways glance. A nagging feeling here and there. A piece of evidence that doesn’t add up.

Pretty soon, though, those little pieces of evidence start to pile up in front of us. Like a jigsaw puzzle coming together, we start to see a bigger picture.

The problem is when the picture we are seeing now isn’t the picture we saw before.

Did the puzzle pieces come from the same box? Did I get it wrong from the start? Or did I jump into an unfinished canvas, and the artist changed course midstream? 

“Give me wisdom,” I prayed.

I knew God would answer that prayer. 

“If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all liberally and without reproach, and it will be given to him.” – James 1:15

As the sun arose over my sleepless night, I got up, determined to validate what I knew in my heart. I searched for knowledge and found it readily. I prayed for discernment and was able to sift fact from fiction. I prayed for wisdom, and found confirmation and validation for all I had been seeing and hearing and feeling for weeks, months, and possibly years.

But the crossroads was still there in front of me.

What do we do with knowledge and wisdom, once we have it in hand? How do we know which way to go?

One of the truths I was reminded of recently was that prayer was never designed to be a speech, but rather a conversation. Yes, it’s a time to share our hearts with the Lord. But it’s also a time to listen.

The prophets knew what it was to be at a crossroads, to be facing big challenges that required big decisions. At one of those crossroads, the prophet Elijah discovered something remarkable. 

As he stood on a mountaintop, weighted down with despair and trying to decide whether to live or die, hide or fight for his faith, he waited for the Lord. Scripture says that when the Lord passed by, there was a raging wind, a powerful earthquake and a blazing fire.

After Moses encountered God in the burning bush, Elijah probably expected to find Him there in one of those big, obvious signs, just as we want Him (and His answers) to appear to us in neon lights. There would be no mistaking it, then! And yet, the Bible says Elijah did not find Him there.

After the wind, after the earthquake, after the fire … came a still, small voice. Elijah was still. He was listening. And he heard it. The voice of God. Telling him what he needed to hear: which way to go.

Two hundred years later, God told Isaiah to remind the people of this truth.

“Your ears will hear sweet words behind you: ‘Go this way. There is your path; this is how you should go’ whenever you must decide whether to turn to the right or the left.” – Isaiah 30:21

He reminds us to listen for His voice.

His voice, the passage says, lines up with His commandments. We can find His still, small voice through scripture.

His voice was heard through the mouths of the prophets. We can find His still, small voice through the wise counsel of biblically grounded Christians.

His voice was heard in the quiet. We can find His still, small voice through prayer.

His voice is sweet. We can recognize it by the love it conveys and the peace it brings to our hearts.

Today, my path is clear. I am no longer at a crossroads. I have heard the voice of the Lord saying “Go this way!” and I am traveling in that direction. I don’t have all the answers, and don’t know the final destination on this particular avenue of my life. But I know I am going the right way. All the signs point in that direction. And I have peace, knowing the Lord is behind me, charting my path, whispering “go!”


What big decisions are you facing? Have you prayed for wisdom and discernment? Have you sought out God’s still, small voice? Where is He calling you to go today?

At the Crossroads: Go This Way! originally appeared on Spring Sight blog, by Linda W. Perkins. Click here for more posts. Get even more encouragement by following me on Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter. 

Many of Spring Sight's posts can also be found each week on Crystal Storms' #IntentionalTuesday,  Kelly Balarie's #RaRaLinkUp, Holly Barrett's Testimony Tuesday, Arabah Joy's Grace & Truth, Holley Gerth's Coffee for Your Heart,  and Woman to Woman's Word Filled Wednesday. This week, I am also linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee and Dawn at Journeys in Grace.

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When Tears Begin to Flow

"Jesus wept." - John 11:35

Mothers know what tears are for.

“Whaaaaaa!!!”

That very first cry, in the moments just after a child has been born, says it all.

He’s been pushed out of his comfort zone, out from where it was warm and safe, into an environment he doesn’t recognize. As his lungs fill with air for the very first time, his eyes open to a bright new world, and his body shivers from the cold he’s never felt before. He has struggled to get here, and yet now … now, he’s not sure why.

“Whaaaaaa!!!”

His cry rings out to signal his distress. His fear. His confusion.

Moments later, he finds loving arms to hold him.

“There, there, it’s OK.” 

The words sound soothing. The arms feel secure.

It is OK. Love is here.

Mothers know that tears don’t always mean sadness.

Sometimes they’re from joy.

Sometimes they’re from pain.

Sometimes, they are from just being so tired, so overwhelmed, that you just feel you can’t go on. Or maybe you can go on, but you just need to rest. You need to vent. You need to grieve. Or you just need to breathe…

Tears say “I need.”

From the moment we are born, we need.

We need food. We need clothing and shelter. We need comfort and care when we are hurt.

Above all, we need love.

I was reading another blogger’s post today, in which she shared about the pain and medical procedures she was having to endure as a result of her rheumatoid arthritis (RA) and a rare bone disease. She wrote about an encounter she had with a nurse who asked how she was doing.

"The tears had begun to flow and we just sat there in silence. She understood."

My friend had reached a moment at the hospital where she just couldn’t express what she was feeling in words anymore. She needed to cry. She needed to express the pain, the fear, the grief … all of it. And she needed love and understanding. But there were no words to express all the need that was bottled up inside her. And so, she wept.

As a Christian, it’s easy to talk about “the joy of the Lord” and expect to feel the “peace that passes understanding” even during hard times. And make no mistake, I do my part to try and stay in that joy and peace. I pray. I study my Bible. I meditate on God’s promises. I worship. I fellowship with other believers. All of that helps.

But sometimes…

The tears fall.

A few weeks ago, my mother went into the hospital with pneumonia and within a few days, was put on life support as a last-ditch attempt to save her life.

When they put her on the ventilator, I wept tears filled with sorrow.

When they told me they had removed the breathing tube and she was able to breathe on her own again, I wept tears of joy.

Next week, she will undergo major surgery for a different problem. It is high risk because of her underlying medical conditions.  I know that and so does she. When I wish her well, as they take her off to the operating room, I already know that - no matter how strong my faith - all the love I feel for my mother, the joyful memories of the happy times we have spent together, the hopes and dreams for all I still want to share with her, and the fear of losing her, will well up inside me ... Once again, I will weep.

I am not ashamed of my tears.

Even Jesus wept. He wept when He saw his friend Lazarus, dead. He wept when his other friend, Judas, betrayed Him. He wept when He saw what was to come on the cross. It didn’t matter that He knew the ultimate ending, His glorious resurrection.

When life – and the prospect of death – was overwhelming, Jesus wept. 

Jesus isn’t a weakling. He is strong enough to conquer temptation, sin and death! And yet, here on earth, dressed in mortal flesh, even Jesus needed a good cry sometimes.

When His flesh cried out, “I hurt!” Jesus needed to let out His human emotions and pain, in order to let in the love of the Father and the power of the Holy Spirit.

Jesus’ tears meant the same as ours. His tears said, “I need…” 

Just as Jesus needed the love of the Father and the power of the Holy Spirit to give Him the strength to overcome what He faced - to take him from suffering and death to life again – so we need God to carry us through our trials and our tears.

On any given day, my tears may mean many things. When I’ve been pushed out of my comfort zone, in unfamiliar territory, and I’m scared. I’m confused. I’m overjoyed with happiness. I’m overcome with grief. I’m hungry, angry, lonely or tired. I’m stressed and overwhelmed. When I need comfort, I need shelter, I need rest.

In the end, when I let it all out – when the tears fall from my eyes with an outpouring of unspoken emotion – I will let in the Holy Spirit and find strength again. Whatever I’m going through won’t last forever. This too shall pass. I will fall into God’s loving arms and feel His warm embrace, as He helps me to my feet again.

There, there, it’s OK. Love is here.

When Tears Begin to Flow originally appeared on Spring Sight blog, by Linda W. Perkins. Click here for more posts. Get even more encouragement by following me on Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter. 

Many of Spring Sight's posts can also be found each week on Crystal Storms' #IntentionalTuesday,  Kelly Balarie's #RaRaLinkUp, Holly Barrett's Testimony Tuesday, Arabah Joy's Grace & Truth, Holley Gerth's Coffee for Your Heart,  and Woman to Woman's Word Filled Wednesday. This week, I am also linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee. 

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Getting My Life Back

"The Lord sustains them on their sickbed and restores them from their bed of illness." - Psalm 41:3 (NIV)

I went bowling Saturday night.

Yeah, I know it doesn't sound like much of a big deal. For much of last year, though, I wasn't too sure if I'd ever be bowling again.

This time last year, I couldn't even pull a pan out of the oven without crying out in pain. My shoulder, inflamed with a rotator cuff injury and torn biceps tendon - complicated by rheumatoid arthritis - wasn't getting any better with physical therapy and even anti-inflammatory drugs were useless.

When surgery became the only option, I thought that would make me feel better. Ha. If I thought I knew pain before I went under the knife, I was kidding myself. The aftermath was excruciating. The ensuing weakness was ridiculous. Just raising a glass to my mouth was hard work! After five months of physical therapy, I was able to lift 3-pound dumbbells. A few more months, and I was up to 5 pounds. Woo-wee! I felt like a real wonder woman then!

So you can imagine, then, my excitement (coupled with a little nervous anticipation) about the idea of me actually picking up and ... get ready for it ... throwing (!) a 10-pound bowling ball down a lane! I was even more amazed that despite having the (significantly) worst score of the group in the first game, I somehow managed to get my bowling game back on track to become the second-highest scorer in the second round. Wow! There's nothing like a comeback to make you feel great!

Truthfully, it's not just bowling I'm excited about. Bowling is representative of how I feel about my life. I'm getting it back. Slowly but surely, since my RA diagnosis, I'm beginning to feel like the "old me" again.

I'm back in the gym again, and not just for physical therapy. Yes, real workouts! They're shorter and less intense - having learned my lesson on overdoing it and causing a flare - but they are workouts nonetheless.

I'm cooking again. Not just because my family has to eat, but because I want to! I'm even back to poring over cookbooks to plan my next delicious meal.

I'm making my bed, putting on makeup and styling my hair. You know, those things normal women just do. The things I did out of habit until I couldn't do them. The things I probably could have done sooner, but my will to do them had just dried up. They took so much energy that I often skipped them to save enough energy to just get through the higher priority tasks of the day, like showering, dressing and working. After my surgery, and again when my rheumatoid disease was more active, those little self-care tasks felt so hard. Today, they feel good.

This isn't about remission. Today, I don't have any significant RA symptoms, and for that I'm grateful. But it isn't always like that. I have good days, bad days, and many in between. I'm learning how to manage my disease, though.

One of the greatest gifts I have been given since my RA diagnosis was a health coaching program called Pack Health. Through this program, which I discovered a few months ago through a fellow RA blogger, I have learned how to manage certain aspects of my life in order to keep my disease in check. By setting tiny goals and achieving them, and being cheered on by my fabulous coach each week, I have begun to feel better physically.

I have also noticed a change in my outlook. I now know that while I can't control all aspects of my disease, I have control over some areas of my life and that positive change begins with ME!

Every choice I make - from the food I eat to getting fresh air and exercise - makes a difference. In partnership with God - whom I go to each day for the faith, hope and strength to keep on keeping on - I now have confidence that how I feel on bad days isn't how I will feel everyday. And the good days just keep getting better!

For me, beating RA means getting back to being me. Rediscovering the passions in my life, and maybe even finding some new ones. Taking advantage of the good days, making the best of the bad ones, and even making the most of the ones in between. Being able to say, everyday, "Today is the day that the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it." It's a new day!

How has a chronic illness or life situation affected you? What tools have you employed to control or overcome the adverse effects of it? Even if you can't do all you used to do, what ways have you found to still be uniquely you and find joy in your everyday life?

Getting My Life Back originally appeared on Spring Sight blog, by Linda W. Perkins. Click here for more posts. Get even more encouragement by following me on Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter. 

Many of Spring Sight's posts can also be found each week on Grace Esedeke's EncourageMe Monday, Crystal Storms' #IntentionalTuesday,  Kelly Balarie's #RaRaLinkUp, Holly Barrett's Testimony Tuesday, Arabah Joy's Grace & Truth, Holley Gerth's Coffee for Your Heart,  and Woman to Woman's Word Filled Wednesday.

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Kicking (Your Disease’s) Butt with God’s Power Tools

“I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life, so that you and your children may live.” – Deuteronomy 30:19

“It’s confirmed. You have cancer.” I cannot begin to understand how hard those words must be to hear. Yet, thousands upon thousands do so each year. And this week, one of those was a friend of mine.

Cancer. It’s the disease that comes with the big question: “Will I live or die?”

Yes, there are other potentially fatal diseases. Heart disease. Diabetes. Addiction. Even rheumatoid arthritis can be fatal. Cancer, however, just seems to be different. It can strike quickly, taking down its prey within a matter of days. Or it can linger, out of reach of the surgeon’s scalpel, spreading its poison throughout the body over time. So cunning and unpredictable, no one can speak its name without shuddering at the thought.

I used to be complacent about cancer. Its common occurrence in my family, and my mother’s triumph over it 30 years ago desensitized me. And all the hope-filled cancer stories on TV were from survivors. I knew it was tough, but I knew it could be beaten. That is, until two years ago. When it took my father. When it stole the life of my neighbor. When it snatched my friend’s young child. Like a tornado, cancer ripped through my life and those around me, leaving a wake of devastation each place it touched down.

Suddenly, I realized why there is one word that comes up with everyone who has ever encountered cancer: FIGHT.

I write a lot about peace, a lot about faith, and a lot about hope. It’s what I strive for in the midst of fighting my own chronic illnesses like rheumatoid disease (RA) and migraines. Some people may think my approach is too “spiritual” or lightweight, lacking the necessary grit to tackle serious conditions like cancer. But hear me out. If there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s this:

Peace, faith and hope don’t preclude a fight: they empower it.

Peace is paired with strength. Ever wondered how to have supernatural strength? If you’re fighting chronic illness, you’re going to need it. The good news is that it’s available to you today. In Psalm 29:11, the Bible says, “The Lord gives strength to His people; the Lord blesses his people with peace.”

The antidote to inflammation-inducing stress, peace is a key weapon of warfare when it comes to fighting cancer or any other serious illness. It’s that “mind over matter” principle that begins with acceptance and gives us the strength to endure what we must to keep going.

How do we get it? Philippians 4:6-7 has the answer. “Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything; tell God your needs, and don’t forget to thank him for his answers. If you do this, you will experience God’s peace, which is far more wonderful than the human mind can understand. His peace will keep your thoughts and your hearts quiet and at rest as you trust in Christ Jesus.”

In other words, let go and let God. Then you will find the peace you need.

Faith is knowing you’re not alone. When you’re faced with an invisible illness, it’s easy to feel alone. And when you’re facing an enemy that looms as large as cancer or as daunting as crippling autoimmune disease, you need to know that you’re more than an army of one. How did little shepherd boy David defeat Goliath the giant with just a slingshot and a few small stones? Faith. Not just in himself, but in God. He believed in a power greater than himself to fight with him. And guess what? He won. So have numerous others who have trusted in the Lord, even when the road ahead looked bleak.

So when I’m scared, ready to succumb to the fear that I’m not big enough or strong enough, I call on the one who IS bigger and stronger: the One who says, “The LORD himself will go ahead of you. He will be with you. He will never leave you. He’ll never desert you. So don’t be afraid. Don’t lose hope.” (Deuteronomy 31:8 NIRV)

Hope is what carries you forward. An army doesn’t stand still. It plans its advances and marches forward, until it reaches its ultimate destination. And for anyone fighting cancer or chronic illness, hope is what moves the needle, rekindles the spirit, and keeps our eyes on the prize.

Hope for a cure fuels millions of dollars of medical research, while hope for another day keeps patients in the fight. Hope in God gives us the assurance that everything will be OK, no matter how it all turns out.

Armed with God’s power tools, we know all things are possible. So we keep going, we keep fighting. In our homes. In hospitals. On our knees in prayer. Knowing that the battle belongs to the Lord. He will be with us. He will never leave nor forsake us. We will not be afraid. We will not lose hope. WE WILL FIGHT!

What battles are you fighting with God’s help? Do you trust Him enough to put your faith and hope in Him, so that you can gain the peace and strength you need to win? 

Kicking (Your Disease's) Butt with God's Power Tools originally appeared on Spring Sight blog, by Linda W. Perkins. Click here for more posts. Get even more encouragement by following me on Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter. 

Many of Spring Sight's posts can also be found each week on Crystal Storms' #IntentionalTuesday,  Kelly Balarie's #RaRaLinkUp,, Holly Barrett's Testimony Tuesday, Arabah Joy's Grace & Truth and Woman to Woman's Word Filled Wednesday.

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Are You Ready to Receive a Miracle?

“Nothing, you see, is impossible with God.” – Luke 1:37 (MSG)

Do you believe in miracles? Are you ready to receive one? Are you sure?

The truth is, we all want to believe in miracles. There’s a reason why “Touched by an Angel” was so popular and is still aired on cable TV channels. I’ve noticed that it is played a lot in hospital rooms, actually. Why is that? Because even medical research shows that faith plays an important role in healing.

How many times have you actually seen a miracle, though?

I would be willing to bet that you’ve seen more miracles than you think. They’re happening all around, you know. The question is whether or not you recognize them as such.

We tend to think that miracles are like magic: wave a wand, and our troubles will disappear; wish upon a star, and our dreams will come true.

What we often fail to realize is that miracles come in all shapes and sizes. They also don’t begin with us. They begin with God.

I haven’t always believed in the goodness of God. I spent many years cursing the darkness of my circumstances, instead of chasing the light. But there was a point at which I gave up. I let go. I let God. I sought His will over mine. And when I did, the miracles began. Slowly, yet surely, my eyes were opened to what God was doing in me, through me, and around me. Hope was reignited. Joy filled my soul. My life began again.

This Christmas, I began to see the parallels between today’s miracles and one that happened over 2,000 years ago to a young peasant girl named Mary.

“You’re beautiful with God’s beauty, beautiful inside and out!” the angel Gabriel said to Mary when he first greeted her.

When God works a miracle, He first examines our hearts. 

“God has a surprise for you: You will become pregnant and give birth to a son and call his name Jesus.”

God’s miracles are often quite unexpected and can even be disruptive.

“But how? I’ve never slept with a man.”

When God shares His plans for us, our first response is frequently disbelief. We question “how?” and “why?”

“The Holy Spirit will come upon you … therefore, the child you bring to birth will be called Holy, Son of God.”

God tells us how He will accomplish His purpose: His part and our part. 

“And did you know that your cousin Elizabeth conceived a son, old as she is? Everyone called her barren, and here she is six months pregnant!”

God inspires us to believe in our own miracle by reminding us of another.

“Nothing, you see, is impossible with God.”

He assures us that whatever we are believing for IS possible with Him.

“And Mary said, ‘Yes, I see it all now: I’m the Lord’s maid ready to serve. Let it be with me just as you say.’”

We believe … we accept our part … and we receive.

When we see the process of how miracles occur, it’s easier to see how we may be hindering them in our own lives.

When I was in an infertile marriage, I prayed for a baby. God provided one. Not through a miracle pregnancy, but rather through another type of miracle: adoption. But it wasn’t like waving a magic wand or wishing on a star. It took work on my part. It took time. It took faith. Day by day, month by month, year by year. I had to let go of my way, to find a better way: His. And in the end, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

It wasn’t the first miracle I experienced, nor was it the last. I've seen others healed. I've been healed myself. Lives have been transformed. People have been made whole. Relationships have been made new. Some miracles have come quickly, without human intervention. Others have taken time, in partnership between God and man. But make no mistake, every miracle has made its mark.

I have learned, through the power of these miracles, the hope for many more and the truth in Ephesians 3:20, which says, “Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely MORE than we might ask or think.”

God is at work.

Miracles abound.

Are you ready to receive one?

Where do you struggle the most with regards to miracles?  Trusting God’s heart for you, that He hears your cries and cares for your needs? Preparing your heart, as you align your will with His? Believing in the possibilities that may be bigger than what you even dare to dream? Accepting your part in His purpose? May the wonder of Jesus' miracle birth carry you with hope for more miracles into the new year ahead.

Are You Ready to Receive a Miracle? originally appeared on Spring Sight blog, by Linda W. Perkins. Click here for more posts. Get even more encouragement by following me on Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter. 

Many of Spring Sight's posts can also be found each week on Crystal Storms' #IntentionalTuesday,  Kelly Balarie's #RaRaLinkUp,, Holly Barrett's Testimony Tuesday, Arabah Joy's Grace & Truth and Woman to Woman's Word Filled Wednesday.

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God's Answer to Your Prayer

“I am leaving you with a gift—peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give is a gift the world cannot give. So don’t be troubled or afraid." - John 14:27

As I write this, there is a tear on my cheek. It is one of several tears I cried as I read someone’s blog about a loved one who is dying from cancer. I had never heard of the couple until recently, when others were talking about their situation, but you may know them. Joey and Rory. A country music duo who went from writing songs for others to being in the spotlight as performers in their own right. A couple whose life of love, faith and family has resonated in the hearts of their fans … and who now face the most daunting challenge of their 13-year marriage.

As I read Rory’s blog post from November 9, 2015, I was struck by the title, “An answer to prayer.” Many might have concluded that this was a celebratory post announcing God’s miraculous healing of Joey. It wasn’t. Joey’s pain had become so bad that they decided to focus on making her comfortable for her last days on this earth. It was time for hospice.

“Not the answer we hoped for … but the answer He has given us,” Rory wrote.

How many of us have been there? We hope. We pray. We believe for the miracle. The answer comes, but it’s not the answer we want.

Sometimes, the burden of an “unanswered” prayer is too much. We seek understanding through the world’s eyes and find none. We scream and cry out to God, “Why were you silent?” “Why didn’t you do something?!”

If we continue to cry out in anger, our hearts may grow cold and bitter. The love that was there – for God, for others, even for ourselves – disappears, hidden beneath the scars. We lose ourselves in the belief that we should never hold out hope again, and so we never find it.

There is another response, however.

“Joey is at peace with where she is and where she’s going. So am I,” Rory concludes.

It’s faith in God’s bigger plan.

Our best hope is for God’s peace. The peace that passes understanding. The peace that only He can give. 

Through the world’s eyes, our circumstances may seem tragic. The death of a loved one. A divorce. A job loss. A diagnosis.

But God doesn’t view our circumstances the way we often do. He sees what we don’t. He knows what we fail to grasp: that sometimes the beauty is in the very ashes themselves. That what lies beyond the pain of our current circumstance is so much better, He is willing to allow us to suffer momentarily in order to birth a bigger dream for us … in this life or the next.

God is willing to allow us to suffer momentarily in order to birth a bigger dream for us … in this life or the next.

When I look back at my life, I remember the pain I felt when God said “no.” When He didn’t heal my first marriage, and it failed. When He didn’t heal my father, and he died. When He didn’t heal me, and I live with the daily pain of migraines and rheumatoid arthritis.

What I also see is the blessing in all of it.
I see the new marriage God has given me, and all the joy it contains. A healthy marriage, built on a more solid foundation. I see the blessing of my father no longer suffering with cancer, at home with his Father in heaven, while my mother is blossoming in her new life with her grief slowly but surely diminishing. And I see the opportunity I have to draw closer to God and to others, as I walk through my journey with chronic illness. It is not the life I had before. It has its challenges. And yet, even in the midst of pain, I can count on little moments of sunshine that never fail to peek through the clouds. I have hope. I have peace. I have joy.

An answer to prayer.

What is your prayer today? Will you trust God’s goodness enough to find peace in His answer, even if it’s not what you’re hoping for? 

God's Answer to Your Prayer originally appeared on Spring Sight blog, by Linda W. Perkins. Click here for more posts. Get even more encouragement by following me on Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter. 

Many of Spring Sight's posts can also be found each week on Crystal Storms' #IntentionalTuesday,  Kelly Balarie's #RaRaLinkUp,, Holly Barrett's Testimony Tuesday, Arabah Joy's Grace & Truth and Woman to Woman's Word Filled Wednesday.

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Managing Chronic Illness and What My Doctor Misses

“The whole is greater than the sum of its parts.” – Aristotle

I may be a card-carrying AARP member (recently qualified, thank you!) but since “50 is the new 40,” I like to think of myself as pretty young, with many good years ahead of me. Unfortunately, my body doesn’t always agree with me. And when I’m running back and forth to doctor’s offices, with this and that wrong with me, I remind myself more of a retired elderly person than a working mother of an 11-year-old!

The problem with managing multiple chronic illnesses is that they often are running on parallel tracks. I think sometimes I should hold a conference so that my rheumatologist can confer with my dermatologist, who can then consult with my neurologist, and so forth and so on…oh yes, and so my primary care doctor would actually have a clue as to the total picture.

Those of you in my shoes know that’s not the way the world works, though, is it? We shuttle back and forth from our general practitioner to our various specialists and hope that somehow we can keep it all straight: The appointments. The blood tests. The scans. The meds.

Occasionally, the tracks do come together, however, but not always in the best way. The trains on the tracks collide, leaving us in a real mess, trying to figure out how to make things work together.

Such was the case in my life this past week. When, in the midst of several months of chronic migraines, I was given medicine for my chronic cough that made my head – as if it weren’t hurting enough – feel like exploding, every single day. It flared up my rosacea and then began interfering with my thyroid and RA meds too, leaving me as a red-faced, head-pounding, fatigued, joint-aching mess.

Finally, today, I said “ENOUGH!!”

It’s not as if I have all day to deal with this. Did I mention that I work and have an 11-year-old? And that tomorrow is Halloween?

I thought about it. What about all of those well-meaning people who have been offering me supplements and essential oils for my various ailments? What the heck, I thought. I’ll give it a try. I put out a cry to help on my Facebook page and by noon, I had numerous people offering advice. Whereas I had rejected their advice before, today I felt nothing but gratitude.

Take this. Try that. Drink this. Stop drinking that.

Feeling more open to new ideas than I ever had, I decided to adopt a few. Meeting with someone who had been in my shoes was wonderful. She described being on six medications for just one ailment, and how they had adversely affected her, which she finally replaced with an essential oil. Voila! It wasn’t prescribed but it wasn’t “witch doctor” science either. The bottom line is, it worked. I’m open. I’ll try it.

I tried yoga this week too. It’s something I’ve always hated, maybe because I wasn’t good at it, but I had bought a Yoga for Arthritis video awhile back and so I thought perhaps this time would be different. It was. I was open. I tried it. And it felt great!

I’m even trying things that feel really hard. Like giving up my Diet Coke. And cutting back my coffee. Ouch! These two beverages are something I really enjoy! But do I enjoy them enough to be miserable, if they are in fact the cause of my chronic cough and headaches. No, today, I don’t think so. So once again. I’m open. I’ll try it. And we’ll see what happens.

What I’ve realized today is how easy it is to get lost in the pharmaceutical jungle. There are some meds I must take. They are the foundation for keeping my more serious illnesses under control. But like so much in life, they are just a small part of the bigger picture.

I am more than a patient. I am a whole person!

As a whole person, I have to remember that my recovery has to be holistic as well. I have to apply what Aristotle said, that “the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.” If one part of my recovery is missing, then my healing won’t be complete.

I need more than just medicine. I need healthy food. Regular exercise. Social engagement. Spiritual connection. I need the whole package.

I write a lot on Spring Sight about how to have a spiritual connection with our Heavenly Father. Do you have that connection? Do you realize how important it is as part of your recovery? Perhaps you already do, but like me, there are other parts of your self-care that have been missing. Whatever it is, be gentle with yourself. You can only do so much. But remember, just a little bit of effort in each area of your life can make a big difference when you put it all together.

I’ll keep you posted on how my journey to wholeness is going. How are you doing on yours?

Managing Chronic Illness and What My Doctor Misses originally appeared on Spring Sight blog, by Linda W. Perkins. Click here for more posts. Get even more encouragement by following me on Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter. 

Many of Spring Sight's posts can also be found each week on Crystal Storms' #IntentionalTuesday,  Kelly Balarie's #RaRaLinkUp,, Holly Barrett's Testimony Tuesday, Arabah Joy's Grace & Truth and Woman to Woman's Word Filled Wednesday.

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The Gift of Suffering

“There’s far more to this life than trusting in Christ. There’s also suffering for him. And the suffering is as much a gift as the trusting.” – Philippians 1:29 (MSG)

You can’t write a blog for people with chronic illnesses without talking about suffering. For some, it’s an everyday thing. For others, like me, it’s every now and then. Most days, I hardly think about having rheumatoid arthritis (RA). Life is good, now that I have a good treatment plan, and I’m relatively pain-free. But it’s not difficult to remember a time when that wasn’t the case.

When my disease was in full-swing, there wasn’t a day that went by when I didn’t wake up hurting. I couldn’t figure out why I was so fatigued all the time (was I lazy?) and why my fingers were too swollen to remove my wedding ring (was I getting fat?). And why did my feet hurt every time I stood up? Filled with self-doubt and unanswered questions (was I just getting old?), my life was beginning to feel like a train wreck.

I was suffering … and my family, feeling a little abandoned and frustrated with my “excuses” for not being able to do more, was suffering right alongside me.

I’ll tell you the truth. I’m glad those days are over and I have no desire to revisit them. Suffering is no fun. For anyone.

You can imagine my surprise, then, when I opened my Bible the other day and ran across this verse: “And the suffering is as much a gift as the trusting.”

Say whaaat??

Clearly, Paul, the writer of Philippians must have been mistaken. How can anyone think of suffering as a gift? Surely, suffering is not God’s will for us, right? Wrong. Maybe suffering is our own fault, and it will go away as soon as we turn back to God. Nope. Oh, OK, then perhaps God only allows us to suffer temporarily, so He can then show His healing power. Well, sometimes yes, sometimes no.

The Bible says that suffering, not just the release from it, is a gift from God.

How in the world could this be true? I dug deeper. What I found was a God who cares deeply about our suffering (Exodus 3:7) and hears our cries for help. And while sometimes He does rescue us, He more often delivers us in our suffering and speaks to us in our affliction (Job 36:15).

His purpose for allowing suffering is not to harm us, but to draw us closer to Him.

In good times, we are often too busy for God. But when we are hurting, we turn to Him. We mature in our faith, take joy and comfort in His presence, and find strength through Him that we can then share with others. In the midst of pain, we find His peace.

Are you suffering today? Accept this gift. May you hear your Father’s voice of love and comfort, and experience His presence and peace. Cry out to Him. He is listening. What you are going through, He may allow, but He will never leave you.

An excerpt from The Gift of Suffering by Linda W. Perkins originally appeared on Purposeful Faith. Get even more encouragement on Spring Sight and by following me on Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter.

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Learning to Love My Mornings

“The Lord’s love never ends. His mercies never stop. They are new every morning.” – Lamentations 3:22-23 (ICB)

Note to reader: This is the first of a week-long series of posts related specifically to life with rheumatoid arthritis, as Spring Sight is one of the blogs featured in #RABlog Week. If you have RA and are new to this site, please know that it is spiritually oriented, from a Christian perspective, and here for your encouragement. If you do not have RA, this is a great week to learn more about what it’s like to live with the disease. I hope you will keep coming back! You can also follow me on Facebook or Twitter.

The truth is, I never was a morning person. I found out the hard way, when I went to college. Before that, I was your average kid, forced into a schedule engineered by parents and school administrators. Of course I didn’t stay up late! My parents were strict about bedtimes – the earlier, the better. And when the school bus picks you up at 7 a.m., well, you don’t have much choice. You get up!

So when I got the dorm application that asked “Are you a morning or a night person?” I had to think hard. Hmmm … I knew there were a number of times I would beg my parents to let me go to bed and get up early to finish the dishes, do homework, or whatever else I was too tired to do after a long day. So I assumed I was a morning person.

Unfortunately, for me and my first college roommate, I assumed wrong. Put a real morning person with a natural night owl in one teeny tiny dorm room, and you learn quickly why universities ask that question.

“Turn off that d--- music!” my roommate would growl, each time I dared to turn on the stereo past 9 p.m. I thought it was playing very softly, but nothing was soft enough for her.

The tables would turn the next morning. I glared at the woman whose alarm clock had interrupted my slumber at 5 a.m. and had already turned on the TV, watching some talk show as she sipped Dr. Pepper, her morning beverage of choice. How the heck can anyone be fully awake at this time of day?? I thought.

Little did I know that many years later, I would find out exactly what it was to be fully awake at 5 a.m. It wasn’t out of desire, however. It was due to RA.

The very first thing I ever knew about rheumatoid arthritis was its effect on mornings. I had begun to see less and less of a good friend, and had inquired of her husband as to where she had been. “Oh, didn’t you know? She was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis. It’s been really hard on her. It can take her two hours just to get out of bed in the morning,” he said.

Wow. Two hours to get out of bed? I couldn’t imagine. While not a super-late night owl, due to the reality of having a job and a child to send to school, I was the kind of woman who would do whatever it took to not get up any earlier than necessary. I always asked the hairdresser for the “minimal maintenance” style and had learned to put on makeup at the speed of light. Within just 30 minutes, I could be up, showered and dressed, with a quick bowl of cereal in my stomach and a cup of coffee in my to-go mug, ready to head out the door. The thought of having to get up two hours earlier to get ready was just unfathomable to me. Way, way too painful to think about. My poor friend.

I had no idea that I too would be learning to adjust to an “extended morning routine” due to my own diagnosis of RA, just a few years later.

When I first developed rheumatoid arthritis, I didn’t choose to wake up at 4 or 5 a.m. The disease itself woke me up. A deeply intense, dull ache permeated my hands each time I tried to open or close them, whether as an involuntary response to a dream or as I tried to pull up my bed covers. I didn’t know what was wrong with them. They just hurt. Bad. I couldn’t go back to sleep. Not like this. But when I got up, my feet hurt too, just to stand on the hardwood floor. So I laid in bed, tears running down my cheeks as I tried to rub the pain away.

Eventually, I would hobble across to the bathroom and down to the kitchen, where I sought comfort from my coffee pot and sat, now wide awake, at my breakfast room table. What now? I thought. What can I do of any value at this time of the morning, without waking up anyone else in the house?

With limited energy – I was fully awake but still tired – and still aching in my joints, I wasn’t ready to hit the ground running but felt restless and frustrated. I can’t just sit here! I thought. And then I looked across the room, and saw it: the book I had been saying I would read every day, if only I could find the time. Well, now I had the time, and I was full out of excuses. The Word of God – the Bible – called to me, like a friend wanting to share her intimate secrets. She was there. Would I accept her invitation?

It’s been almost two years since I began waking up early due to RA. Back then, it was disease that woke me up. Today, it’s desire. Desire to spend time with the One who loves me most. Desire to spend time in His Word. For I have found that the Scriptures are true: His mercies are new every morning. It is that time that gives me strength for today, hope for better tomorrows, and joy for the journey. I have learned to take the time I need for my hands and feet – and today, my knees and shoulders too – to “wake up” and feel better, and use it to my advantage. There is something about healing the soul that does something for the body too.

I will never be a morning person, as long as there are late nights to enjoy. But today, whatever time my mornings begin, I no longer look at them with dread. Yes, depending on the day, there may be pain. But there is also joy, and on that I can depend, for I know the One who will bring it and He never fails to deliver. It comes wrapped in a nice little package, like a gift I get to open every day, with a tag that reads Love. 

If you have RA, how do you handle your pain in the morning? Do you rely on warm heating pads or cool towels to soothe your joints? Where do you go to soothe your soul? 

Learning to Love My Mornings originally appeared on Spring Sight blog, by Linda W. Perkins. It is one of a series of posts specifically about Rheumatoid Arthritis, as part of #RABlog Week. 

Subscribe to Spring Sight by Email Your privacy is very important. Your email address will not be shared with any 3rd parties. 

Click here for more posts. Get even more encouragement by following me on Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter. Many of Spring Sight's posts can also be found each week on #EncourageMeLinkup,  #IntentionalTuesday,  #RaRaLinkUp, and  Testimony Tuesday.