The Gift of Life by Jaye Lewis

One of the most difficult aspects of being a senior diabetic is stabilizing my diabetes. I can’t help but ask myself, which combination of medicines will maintain equilibrium, to help me control my glucose. Which combination will make me sicker, as Byetta did, especially with that whole vomit factor? It’s a delicate balance. I remain very aware that not all my medicines were especially made to go together.

For instance, I have high blood pressure, so I’m on a very effective blood pressure medication, Benecar HCT 40-12.5. This drug, which lowers my blood pressure, includes a mild diuretic that also reduces water weight gain, creating a delicate balance in my system. The down side is that I must intake more salt than I find palatable. This stimulates thirst, and thirst for a diabetic is an unpleasant experience.

Another question I have is which medicine, or combination, destroyed my sense of smell? And my sense of taste is fading also. I miss tasting food. A lot. I miss the smell. And I really miss the anticipation before I take that first bite.

I’m also on Coreg CR, a time-release beta blocker, which controls my heart arrhythmia problem, caused by my asthma drugs. My diabetes drugs are Januvia in the morning with breakfast, and Glumetza in the evening with supper. This does a pretty good job of control, while still allowing me enough blood sugar to get on my treadmill and walk for a mile, without feeling faint.

Coreg and Benecar, together, can be a great blessing. My blood pressure goes down to the level I was at in high school, and my heart-rate remains constant. But there can be a downside. If I do not take in enough salt, my blood pressure can plunge to dangerously low levels. I can faint, get dizzy, groggy, and even fall asleep. The sleep episodes can feel like dying, and if my blood pressure is extremely low, well, only God knows. Very scary.

All of these medications, and a myriad of other drugs, are necessary gifts of life to me. Not only do they promise me a longer life, but they also give me quality of life. I can exercise, work at my favorite chores, particularly gardening – all of the activities that make up my humanity. In the house, I can praise God as I precariously carry a load of towels down to the laundry. I can gaze out the window, at my beautiful mountains, as I wash another plate from breakfast.

I can run on our back deck, with our little dogs. I can play with them without tiring. I can pull weeds from my garden, rake the fallen leaves, and truly put my garden to bed. With my medications and my heart and mind in balance, I can find joy in each new day.

So, in each life, there must be made room for balance. Tears and laughter, clamor and silence, beauty and the commonplace, a walk in the fresh air and reading by a cozy fire ― all these things need balance or life can be unbearable. I have lived an unbearable life, before God gave me this one. I know what it is like to stare into nothingness and believe my life was not worth living. I’m so glad I did not choose that final answer that is so prevalent at this time of year, especially for the chronically ill.

Oh, how I remember, one particular time, when ending my life seemed my only answer. I sat on a kitchen chair, by the phone, alone. I had just called a Catholic priest, a Methodist minister, and some other cleric of another faith. Each was busy. Very busy. Could I please hurry up? Give them the short version? Moving right along. I finally hung up, and I sat in that chair, watching the stairs which led up to my bedroom.

In my hand I clutched a bottle of pills. It wouldn’t take much to swallow them. Just a glass of water. Lying down, it wouldn’t take long. Then I could drift off to sleep. It didn’t matter that I was a woman of faith. It didn’t matter that I had a child who needed me. It didn’t matter that I knew that suicide was spitting in the face of God. I was at the end of my rope, and I and my problems were the most important things in my life.

Pulling the glass of water closer, I began to unscrew the cap on the bottle of pills. Then, something extraordinary took place. I don’t know if it really happened, or if it was a dream. I don’t know if I had a vision, or if I saw only in my minds eye. I only know that it was God given.

Looking at the stairs, ready to take my own life, I suddenly saw my mother moving from the kitchen to the bottom step. Her face looked like sunlight, and on her lips was a smile. She was humming, and all at once a little laugh-bubble burst forth. She was happy. Then, I saw her climb the stairs, heading straight for my room. When she entered my room, playful mischief lit up her features. Inexplicably, I saw myself lying on my bed, an empty bottle laying open on the floor.

I could see my mother’s features change, as she tickled my toes. She could feel they were very cold. Then she felt my arm, then my face. She leaned down, laying her head upon my chest, then checking my pulse, as the full realization dawned upon her features. Her little girl was dead by her own hand.

I could hear her screaming and screaming. Then racking sobs were torn from some place deep within. Sorrow. A sense of helplessness. Questions. What had she done to cause this? How had she failed me? As I lived this hopelessness and felt my mother’s anguish, I lay my face upon the table, in the palms of my hands. I could not do it. I could not bear the thought of her grief and horror.

I immediately got up from my chair. Shaking the bottle of pills and looking at it for the last time, I walked into the bathroom, opened the medicine cabinet, and I placed the pills inside. As I closed the cabinet door, I heard the back door slam. My mother had been outside all along. Chills crept up my spine and into my scalp. What had just happened?

“Come out!” my mother called. “There are birds to see and sunshine to feel. Winter is over, and spring is finally here!” I could hear the joy in her voice, a rare delight.

“In a minute, Mom!” I cried. “I’m coming right now.”

My eyes traveled heavenward, and I gave a grateful sigh, for the dream or vision or wild imagination that I had just been given. I could now deal with my mother’s depression, and I could deal with mine. Perhaps I could even be a blessing to her from time to time. As I hurried out to join my mother in her celebration of spring, I thanked God, in my heart, for the realization that I finally understood. Life itself was precious, even mine.

Forty years later, I still cannot say what happened that day. I remember the moments as they happened. I see them clearly, and I believe that God sent that event, strange though it was, for a purpose beyond what I can understand. Perhaps He sent it, so that I might now tell this story to you, to give you hope that He holds your future in the palm of His hand.

Father in heaven, grant us the grace, no matter our situation, to understand that life is your precious gift to us. Help us to celebrate each of our lives, to look for and find the miracles in the day to day. Help us to understand that we have choices. We can reach out of our own suffering and look for those chances to help others, in circumstances more troubling than our own. Perhaps we’ll see the child angels on countless Christmas trees, across our land, who have childhood needs that we can fulfill. Perhaps as we take the microscope off of our own trivialities, we will see the opportunities offered to bring joy to others. For this we pray, this season, and always.

With love,
Jaye Lewis
www.entertainingangels.org
www.jayelewisliliesofthefield.blogspot.com

Knowing My Heart by Jaye Lewis

My hair. It’s my one vanity. At sixty-three, my hair is still a red gold. My pictures are not touched up. My hair has never changed. This certainty may soon be over, at least for awhile.

You see, I have been diagnosed with Interstitial Cystitis, and the only medication approved by the FDA to treat Interstitial Cystitis (IC) is Elmiron. One of Elmiron’s side effects is a type of hair loss called alopecia. Yes, in the not too far distant future, I will have a bald spot ― a nice and shiny bald spot.

I’m a pretty woman, with a warm smile and lovely expressive eyes; however time and disease (not to mention medications) have taken their toll on my body. I’m no longer slender, and after much whining and complaining to God, I have accepted it. Since my asthma requires high doses of prednisone, which plays havoc with my diabetes, I am subject to a plethora of side effects, like weight gain. Although I fight the pounds with exercise and diet, I’m no longer counting on losing weight. I try to comfort myself, that when I’m in heaven, I’ll be a lot taller.

I only just found out my new condition, so I spent yesterday looking up IC diets. I actually found one. It was filled with foods to avoid ― all my favorite foods, like coffee, chocolate, heavy cream, and a host of others. Now, believe it or not, I was encouraged to drink my favorite mint tea and I can eat my daughter’s oat bread ― yum ― and other whole grain breads.

I’m to run from butter, but not margarine and lard. Who wrote this diet, and when? I can’t believe that margarine and lard are still on a list of preferred foods, anywhere! Just when was this diet dreamed up? 1972?? To be fair, I was urged to avoid only one food at a time ― sort of trial and error ― until I find which foods have an effect on my IC.

I’ve decided to start eliminating grains I’ve never eaten, like quinoa, spelt, and amaranth. This list was definitely compiled by someone who’s stuck in the seventies. I can’t have cream, but I can have ice-cream and Cool Whip?? No offense to the brand name, but I prefer real food rather than fake.

The list of bladder friendly foods is not too bad. Some of my favorites are on it. All kinds of dried beans, which make great soups. And pumpkin, egg plant, and squash. I can eat coconut cream pie, pork chops, and chicken.

It’s not so bad, really. This is just one more thing that proves that we live in a fallen world, much like in the days of Noah. And just because I have one more thing to deal with, it’s no reason for me to give up. I’m quite certain, with the polluted air we breathe and our contaminated food supply, there will always be something.

I will not give up, no matter what my situation is. I will always have a plan of action. Banning citrus fruits is not the end of the world. Anything that affects the bladder must be eliminated for a time. The internet is a tool to seek out information, and I must use common sense when searching. I’m smarter than I think I am, and so are you. We are not victims.

So, now I wait, trusting in God and believing in His mercy. I can laugh at myself, and at my situation, because laughter is also a gift from Him. At these times, I can’t help but wonder about atheists. How can they endure the trials and tribulations of this life, without God? What do they do when all hope is lost? Call on Darwin? What nonsense! Darwin has no power to help anyone.

When all hope seems lost, I choose to find my strength in God. My faith assures me that He has a plan for me; that He will see me through every sorrow; that He will not forsake me; and that every blessing I have comes from Him. I can easily count my blessings: my wonderful husband, my beautiful daughters, my loveable pups, and my cat MeowMeow, who follows me around like a puppy, meowing all the way. God has given me my home, my garden, and my strength to carry on ― all of these gifts are because of Him and His grace.

So, I lose my hair! There are wigs and hats. I don’t have to look beautiful, to be beautiful. My blessings were truly evident in an offer from my youngest daughter. She has red-gold hair, that flows down her back and shimmers in the sunlight.

“I’ll give you my hair, Momma,” She offered, while tears streamed down her cheeks. We hugged as I told her what an angel she is.

So now, I will wait, with a laugh bubble in my throat, enjoying the ludicrous in life, even when the ludicrous is me. I’ll take my medicine and accept whatever comes. I will believe in remission, because God has promised to heal me. Whether my body or my soul, that is good enough for me.

Oh Father, I am so weak, but You are strong. I am filled with doubt, but You fill me with Your grace. Hold me, Father, and wipe away my tears. I can feel your comfort. I can feel your safety. Help me, Lord, to know my heart. Help me to be strong, so that others will seek their strength in You. Be my hiding place, as well as all who seek You. And to You be the praise, the honor, and the glory, forever. Amen.

With love,
Jaye Lewis
www.entertainingangels.org
www.jayelewisdiabetesdiary.blogspot.com

www.jayelewisliliesofthefield.blogspot.com

A Veteran's Prayer: Remembering the Fallen by Jaye Lewis

Father help me remember;
May I recall to the very last.
As I set my eyes on the future,
May I not forget the past.

Help me recall the suffering,
And every sacrifice, too.
May I never forget each drop of blood
That was shed in the sight of You.

May I never forget the sorrow.
May I not erase the pain,
Of the ones who’ll not see tomorrow,
Because they were cruelly slain.

Father help me remember
Each and every face —
Of my sisters and my brothers
Who cannot be replaced.

In my heart I watch them go,
So young and unafraid.
Leaving behind their precious loves,
And the plans that they had made.

Father help me remember
The faces, voices, and lives,
Who sacrificed their future
For brothers, sisters, and wives.

How can it be that they should go
And I be left behind?
Perhaps, my child, so you can tell
These stories to the blind.

But who is blind, oh Father?
Those who will not see
The sacrifice of others,
So precious, now, to Me.

Now, yours is a sacred duty,
A chance to set things straight;
To tell their sacred story,
Before it grows too late.

I pondered all the whispered words.
I heard my Father say;
How He loved the fallen
Who abide with Him today.

My heart was broken as I thought
Of those who’d gone before;
Protecting those they do not know,
In a world that’s still at war.

And so, I made a promise;
One I strive to keep.
I’ll tell their stories one by one,
Until it’s time to sleep.

Father, I will not forget.
I’ll remember to the last;
As I set my eyes on the future,
I will not forsake the past.

Good-by, my precious brothers;
And to my sisters too.
Save a place at the Master’s table;
In time, I’ll dwell with you.

© Jaye Lewis, Veteran’s Day 2009

Good-By Little Boy by Jaye Lewis

Andy. He was my cousin. Disturbed and charming, even at the age of four, he stole my sixteen year old heart. I was wounded myself, and perhaps I saw a bit of myself in him. Also, I was born with a sense of the ludicrous, and though he annoyed me, even enraged me, he usually got me laughing, in spite of myself.

Andy’s father, my Uncle Donny, was tough on his boys, and Andy was one in a million, easily on his way to the church or prison. I don’t think his heart was evil, and Uncle Donny did so much to save me, so where did those lives fail to save themselves? When did everything go wrong for both of them?

Perhaps it was when Aunt Maggie died. Perhaps it was because my parents went through friends and relatives like water through a sieve, drawing battle lines in the sand and declaring evil, what once was good. I’ll never know. Out of necessity, I lost track long ago.

The only thing I know is that my Aunt died in childbirth when I was pregnant with my first child, more than 40 years ago. Then seven years later, Andy shot and killed his father. Was it an accident? Was it intentional? Did my uncle turn to drink, as was the habit of my family when anything went wrong? Did he beat Andy? Did he work long hours? Did he abandon the little boy, as he became a man? Again, I’ll never know.

Recently, I did an internet search to find them, and find them I did. It has become easier now, with all the competing websites. I suppose that I hoped that Andy had become a man, married, and had children. Perhaps he was a businessman, now, or a laborer, a craftsman, anything but what I found.

Andy is gone. Shot dead, by a bullet from his own weapon. All that potential, all that I loved, all that I remembered, the little boy who annoyed me and made me laugh, was no longer here. In my heart, he’s still alive, and still very much a little boy. As a wounded teen, from a very dysfunctional family, I was healed by my love for that little lost boy, and now he is gone.

I got out of the website, erased the history, shut down my computer, and I cried. Broken hearted and defeated, I sobbed for an hour, and then I gave Andy, my Uncle, and my Aunt to God. It was then that I was able to write the following poem.

Good-by Little Boy

Good-by little boy, who will never be
A man of honor and truth.
You had more strikes against you
And burdens that stole your youth.

And, yet, you chose to end your hopes
One day with a loaded gun;
It was your decision; remember that.
You could have turned and run.

I do not know the demons
That pushed you to your fate;
You made your awful decision
And now it’s just too late.

Good-by little boy, my cousin dear,
Wish I could have saved you somehow.
Perhaps you were given a time to repent,
And you’re in God’s arms right now.

Yet, through the years you’ll always be
The child I learned to love;
Filled with fire and promise;
I pray, now, with God above.

© Jaye Lewis, 2009

Father in Heaven, thank You for the lives that have touched ours and changed our hearts forever. Let us not lose hope when someone dies, even in the worst of circumstances. Let us understand that in that brief second before we step into the great divide, there still are choices. Angels abide in those moments, although unseen to the rest of us. We only see our grief and our hopes lost, but let us never assume that all is lost, for we have You, oh Lord, as the rock to which we cling.

With love,
Jaye Lewis
www.entertainingangels.org
www.jayelewisdiabetesdiary.blogspot.com
www.jayelewisliliesofthefield.blogspot.com

Because I Can by Jaye Lewis

Hello friends,

Yesterday I found an expandable file that I had forgotten about. It was covered in dust, since I had not touched it for years. This time things were different, I opened it. Inside I discovered some illuminating things, notes from my husband, old poems that I’d written, first drafts of some of my stories, and memories, both good and bad.

Painful memories are not places that I want to visit frequently. I live a very happy life, and I’d rather not dwell on the heartaches of the past. However, as I looked at one of my stories, I saw the simply awful original title, and I remembered that I had submitted that story several times before it was finally published. That was nine years ago. The story was Entertaining Angels, which is the title of my website, and it has been published all over the world, in dozens of languages.

I bring this up, because we often have no idea what God wants of us. At that time I felt useless. I thought life had passed me by, and that no one would ever hear my voice. I was certain that I had let God down. How could I have known that God had a plan for me? How could I have known that my heart would touch so many other lives? And yet, on a cold winter’s morning, prompted by God, I wrote, for the first time, www. Like Abraham, I had no idea where I was going.

Computers terrified me. The internet seemed like the very spawn of the devil, and I just didn’t see how it could be of any use to me. I was very ill, in body and spirit, and the medicines that have since given me back my life, did not even exist. “WWW,” three letters that in nine years have taken me around the world, and touched the hearts and minds of people from many nations. If that is not a humbling thought, then I don’t know what is.

Along with this flood of memories, and the profound awareness of God’s hand, I found the evidence of those who had helped me achieve my dreams, simply because they could. These past nine years I have tried to do the same, and for that exact reason, simply because I can. Nothing feels better than doing something generous, simply because you can. No money or fame has as powerful a result as blessing someone ― giving of yourself, simply because you can. That is what I do today, with all my heart. Asking nothing in return, I’m passing on blessings, simply because I can.

So, today I challenge you to look within your own life, and recognize the blessings that others have given to you, simply because they could. A smile. A warm handshake. An introduction. A kind word. These are the things that can change lives, perhaps even save a life. You never know. These are the things that are the evidence, that we, just like Abraham, are entertaining angels.

With love,
Jaye Lewis
www.entertainingangels.org
www.jayelewisdiabetesdiary.blogspot.com
www.entertainingangelsencouragingwords.blogspot.com

An Unexpected Journey By Jaye Lewis

Hello friends,

This past week-end I have achieved something that I have been thinking about for a long time. I have begun a new blog, which means that I have two blogs, both of which will be filled with thoughtful insight into the many aspects of my life.

However, the focus in my new blog is my journey with diabetes. It can be visited at www.jayelewisdiabetesdiary.blogspot.com Diabetes is a complicated disease, which can become even more complex when combined with other diseases, especially asthma. As an asthmatic I take this all very seriously, yet sometimes I find myself wondering ‘why me.’

Many people view diabetes as a death sentence, and they feel that they now have a downhill slide into an open grave. Nothing could be further from the truth. The fact is that diabetes can often be overcome with diet and exercise, alone. I know, because I have done that very thing. However, if and when your condition changes, as mine did, there are a wealth of new drugs that do not have the same side effects as insulin. I, myself, am on such a drug. And, if someone’s diabetes can only be controlled with insulin, life can still be full and exciting.

At the very least, diabetes can be a launching pad to greater health and an understanding of just how precious life is. I hope to inspire diabetics, and anyone else who knows and loves a diabetic. I hope to encourage them to look beyond themselves so that they might see life’s treasures, whether family or friends or even themselves, to celebrate the life that God has given to them.

So, my friends, I also urge you to look around in your world and find the treasures awaiting you. May God grant you mercy and grace. May he fill your life with abundance, and may He, most of all, fill your heart with peace.

If you know a diabetic, or if you are a diabetic, please send or click on my Diabetes Diary blog at www.jayelewisdiabetesdiary.blogspot.com and join me in my journey.

With love,
Jaye Lewis
www.entertainingangels.org
www.entertainingangelsencouragingwords.blogspot.com
www.jayelewisdiabetesdiary.blogspot.com

Stealing Peace at Life's End by Jaye Lewis

1. 
   Hello friends,
   
   I found myself unable to get to sleep last night. You see, I was broadsided by some alarming news. My Senator, Mark Warner, whose programs, as Governor of the State of Virginia, enabled my children to finish their college education, is the spearhead of new legislation on end of life care.
   
   When I read the bill, on his website, I felt like I had been kicked in the stomach. This program will “take care” of seniors like me, at the end of our lives, by encouraging us to hear sermons on “living wills and other planning tools.” Such as what? Suicide? Refusing treatment? Being a heck of a gal, by removing my wrinkled body from this earth, to make room for a younger, more valuable person?
   
   It’s called The Senior Navigation and Planning Act of 2009. The main points of the bill are these

Enhance Medicare and Medicaid coverage of advanced illness care management services;

Require doctors to provide patients with information on living wills and other planning tools

Give providers incentives to achieve accreditation and certification in hospice and palliative care

Encourage more comprehensive discharge planning

Increase public awareness about the importance of end-of-life planning

I just love the term “palliative care.” Palliative care sounds like a compassionate service to assist the aged to comfortably live out the rest of their lives. Well, it is actually an intrusion upon the beliefs and faith of the elderly person. Taken right from their website at GetPalliativeCare.org, here are the facts:

A team of experts, including palliative care doctors, nurses and social workers, provide palliative care. Chaplains, massage therapists (massage therapists??) pharmacists, nutritionists and others might also be part of the team. Typically, you get non-hospice palliative care in the hospital through a palliative care program. Working in partnership with your primary doctor, the palliative care team provides:
• Expert treatment of pain and other symptoms
• Close, clear communication (yelling?)
• Help navigating the healthcare system
• Guidance with difficult and complex treatment choices
• Detailed practical information and assistance
• Emotional and spiritual support for you and your family

Yay! I get to spend the end of my life in a hospital surrounded by strangers! I’ll be guided or manipulated, whether I want it or not! I’ll be barraged with detailed, practical information, which should give me just enough time to do what I don’t want. And I and my family will receive “emotional and spiritual support.” This just sickens me.

First of all, my doctor and I already have a partnership. We have mapped out a program which manages my pain, diabetes, and the nausea that many medicines cause. We’ve had a close, clear communication for years, and she has earned my trust. She is not a stranger. Also, being a retired military family, believe me, we know about navigating the healthcare system.

Okay, here’s one of my favorites: “Guidance with difficult and complex treatment choices.” Oh, come on, like I’m not already doing that. Or like I’m going to trust some stranger. Do you know how many doctors I’ve fired who wanted, I guess, to buy a boat, or a pony, or a jet plane, or whatever, all centered around invasive, ridiculous, often dangerous procedures. Most of us, by the time we reach retirement age, know what our symptoms are, and if we’re computer friendly, we have memorized the list of available medicines for treatment, and their side effects.

Here is the bottom line for me. I receive emotional and spiritual support from my family, you know, my husband, children, dogs, cats, gardening, writing, keeping active, and a personal, intimate relationship with God! My husband loves me, adores me, and his sheltering arms are the comfort I need. My children cherish every moment they spend with me. Perhaps we are a special family, a blessed family, but I know many other families who hate the idea of having strangers make decisions or manipulate their beloved spouse, parent or grandparent.

So, now you know, if this bill is passed, I…and you…will have more interference than we ever wanted…near or at the end of our lives. And who gets to vote on just exactly what that is? According to this bill? Them. You know, the present day “them” and the unknown, future “them.” In Germany, 1931, the future “them” turned out to be Hitler.

Mark Warner is a good man, but “good” does not always translate into wisdom. This bill has no wisdom in it. It’s a callous device. Callousness is often cloaked in kindness, as in requiring a doctor to coerce an elderly person into signing a “living will.” Which is actually a “dying” will, prepared while you are still breathing. Let me see, do I want them to starve me or remove fluids, so that I die of thirst, experiencing that “blissful death” I’ve heard way too much about in recent years?

So, no. This is a bill that I hope will fail. I hope that God sends angels to the terminally ill, and to those who are aged and alone and dependent upon so-called “compassionate strangers.” And for those of us who resent intrusion, may God protect us and guide us into wisdom and strength.

Father in heaven, I know that none of us has wisdom, but You have given us intellects and hearts to understand right from wrong. Help us, Lord, to set apart partisan politics and work together for the good of our country. Help us to weed out the hysteria, which has overtaken our elective process. Lead us, dear God, into a righteous tomorrow. Grant us peace now, and at the end of our lives.

With love,
Jaye Lewis