Fight for a Cure

Today is World Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy Day.  This is the first year I have heard of a day being devoted to DMD and perhaps it has to do with the Jerry Lewis Telethon no longer being aired.

Most people do not know what Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy is.  Many people have mistaken it for Multiple Sclerosis, which is also a neuromuscular disease but is not the same.  DMD is a genetic disease when muscules are missing a protein called dystrophin.  Without this protein, muscles cannot fully develop and they eventually start to deteriorate.  Unlike other types of MD, Duchennes attacks muscules all over the body, not just the legs.  The arms become weak, along with shoulder, abdominal and back muscles.  Being the monster that this disease is, it also goes for vital organs, such as the heart and weakens muscules that help us to breathe, such as the diaphragm.  Many boys succomb to the disease from pneumonia or heart failure.  As back muscles weaken, scoliosis sets in, making surgery necessary.  Without spinal fusion, which is very risky and involves a titanium rod being put into the back so it can be kept straight, the spine continues to compress which makes it difficult to breathe and puts stress on the heart.  Many of the boys have to use ventillators to aide in breathing earlier on without the spinal fusion.

Muscles that we take for granted to aide us in our balance so we can sit up straight deteriorate making it impossible to sit on a chair without support.  Without the ability to stand, many families use special lift systems to help transfer their kids from bed to chair and even to use the bathroom.

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Making friends at camp

 

Duchenne MD takes on its full form in males.  My mother has a more aggressive mutation of DMD and she has lost a lot of muscle in her legs and arms.  She has fallen and injured herself and we are looking at making modifications to her home in the future to insure her health and safety.  I have symptoms but they are not as severe as my mothers and I hope I can keep them at bay by being proactive with a plant based diet and plenty of walking.  We recently found out that my youngest sister has the disease and it was passed on to my 10 month old nephew.

Me, my sister Sonja who is also a carrier and Damian who has been recently diagnosed with DMD

 

Duchenne MD, along with many other neuromuscular diseases, takes a tremendous emotional and financial toll on families.  The spinal fusion surgery is a six figure procedure and a power wheelchair can cost well over $15,000.00.  This doesn’t account for lost wages because unless a good caregiver is available, one parent has to stay home to care for their son.  There are also regular visits to the cardiologist and pulmonoligist along with physical therapy.

Drew preparing for a breathing test

 

We lost our oldest son, Christian, in 2014 to this disease.  His heart became too weak and he had a great deal of trouble breathing.  My other son, Andrew, continues to deal with the ongoing weakness and complications related to DMD.  He has days when he is in a great deal of pain and most boys cannot take large amounts of painkillers because of the side effects.

Christian had to spend a great deal of his last year tilted to control his pain.

 

The Jerry Lewis MDA telethon has raised millions to aide in research so we can find a cure to this disease, along with other neuromuscular diseases.  It was heartbreaking to hear about the end of the telethon.  We now have to think outside of the box for ways to raise more awareness and to continue to fight for a cure.  There are several different methods being studied with some actually showing improvement for some of our boys.  It still has a way to go but we must not lose hope.  I, along with many other mothers and fathers that have to live with this disease every single day, do not want this day to be lost among the other fun, national holidays – National Hug Your Cat Day or National Pizza Day.  Please donate to your local MDA events, such as Fill the Boot and the MDA lockups to support statewide summer camps and MDA Clinics.  The clinics are very important, especially for people who live in such a spread out state like Montana.

We have had to watch the boys lose friends from MDA camp and in turn fear for their own future.  I have created a Facebook group so us moms can support each other during difficult times and give each other ideas as the disease progresses.  With enough awareness and scientific research we can beat this disease and give our boys hope.

God’s grace for the Race

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Yesterday, I completed my first Island Challenge.  The event took place in Lewistown at the Half Moon Ranch and it featured different events – a half-marathon, overnight bike ride and 8K/11K hikes.  I signed up for the 11K hike.  I am a natural introvert so engaging on such an adventure solo stirred up feelings of fear and doubt.  I had thoughts of backing out more than once.

I woke up early and made the hour-long drive so I could have plenty of time to check in.  I was not disappointed by the beauty of the ranch.  There were cows greeting passing cars on the dirt road leading to the ranch and the rising sun brought everything to life.  I arrived at the pavilion to the smell of bacon and pancakes.  I checked in, pinned on my number along with the memorial pin of my son.  The ranch is surrounded by mountains and wildlife so I enjoyed the views while I waited for the hike to begin.

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When it was time to gather around the starting line I made sure to listen to the directions, especially pertaining to the split between the two hikes.  The horn went off and I began my  journey.  We started on a hill and I slowly ended up in the back.  I told myself that all I want to do is finish, even if I am last.  I was looking forward to the solitude of being in the back.

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We went uphill for over a mile and my heart was racing.  My legs started to burn in places they usually don’t and the terrain became very rugged.  I had to watch where I was stepping so I wouldn’t fall or roll my ankle.  As we started to spread out more, I could hear the wind blowing through the tops of the pines.  Everything around me was beautiful and so full of life and color, even the rocks and foliage along the side of the road.  I made it to the first water station and was happy they had kleenex and fresh fruit.  The oatmeal I ate for breakfast wore off before I even started the hike.  We had a brief respite from walking uphill but another hill waited after the rest station.  I attacked it with vigor and pumped my arms to give me a boost.  Tendons I didn’t know existed were sore and I  began to feel the weakness caused by the muscular dystrophy.  I wasn’t about to let it stop me.

 

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I thought of Christian and how he and his brother were never able to hike because their bodies became too weak once they were old enough.  I thought of my mother and the pain she has endured from her legs giving out.  I also thought of a co-worker who is battling cancer.  I felt that second wind come along and I kept it up.  I walked alone for a good part of the hike except for the marathon runners that passed occasionally.  I came up on the 6K sign and realized I was over half way through.  The second water station came a short time later and they said I had one mile left.  I thought the nice man didn’t know what he was talking about.  How could I only have one mile left?  I pressed on further and approached a downhill slope that made me hesitate.  I pictured myself trying to run down it and tumbling down for eternity like Chris Farley in one of his movies.  I eased my way down and felt my quads burn like fire.  When I was closer to the bottom, I let gravity help me and ran a short way.  I slowed, went through a gate and I could hear cheering.  I thought that was odd because I still had a way to go.  The pavilion came into view and I knew something was off.  I felt like I had accomplished something great, but 11k in a little under 2 hours?  I crossed the finish line with a smile and a feeling of completion.  It didn’t dawn on me that I went the wrong way until I noticed hikers with the 11K blue race bibs on cross the line that were in front of me earlier.

I have to admit that I felt disappointed because I signed up for the longer hike.  I beat myself up a bit for making a mistake and missing that turn.  I was very tired and sore after completing the shorter hike so I thought that maybe it was for the best.  Next year I can try the longer hike.

I opened my devotional this afternoon and read about the grace of God.  Grace is the evidence of his love for us which is freely given.  It comes to us as talents, through other people or in ways totally unexpected and most needed whether we realize it or not.  God wants for us what is best and sometimes it seems unfair.  Although my hike ended up being 3K shorter than planned, perhaps He knew that I started off too big.  My legs ached like they haven’t in years and I really cannot imagine how they would feel had I completed the longer hike.

I cannot change the fact that my legs are not as strong as I would like but God has given me the ability to keep walking and hiking, just not marathon distances.  He has blessed me with a loving husband and a son who despite his prognosis, continues to do everything he can with what he has.  He also blessed me with a son who kept fighting until his last breath.

Christian was with me on my hike walking beside me and he knows I gave it my all.  For everything he lost and everything Andrew continues to fight for I will not give up, even if it means taking a path I didn’t expect to take.

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My Camino

A few months ago, my husband asked me to watch a movie with him called The Way starring Martin Sheen and directed by his son, Emilio Estevez.  In the wake of the loss of his son, Thomas Avery decides to walk the Camino de Santiago, a 776 km pilgrimage across Spain also known as The Way of St. James.  The images in the movie were stunning and breathtaking.  After having lost my oldest son in 2014, I really connected to the movie.  Each person takes a stone with them that symbolizes their burdens.  Along their pilgrimage they are able to lay the stones in an area to symbolize leaving their burdens behind.

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The burdens people release have much to do with their reasons for walking the Camino.  It may be the loss of a loved one, the loss of a job or overcoming a physical challenge.
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The images online and in the movie are numerous.  I encourage you to follow a Camino page on Instagram or search online.  I experience peace from many of the images.

The journey ends for most at the Praza Obradoiro Cathedral.  The images of the Cathedral brought tears to our eyes.

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One of the most memorable parts of the movie was seeing the massive incense burners swaying to and fro across the Cathedral. 

The journey takes at least a month and many walk all the way to the ocean.  Some start further into France before reaching Spain.  There are numerous documentaries and one we enjoyed is called Walking the Camino.  This movie affirmed my decision to add this pilgrimage to my bucket list.

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It may be years until I am physically able to complete this journey let alone getting the time off of work, but I decided to start my journey now.  I am not able to actually fly to the beginning of the Camino at St. Jean Pied De Port, but I can walk daily to overcome the physical discomforts of muscular dystrophy, lessen the depression and anxiety of daily life and loss, and strengthen my mind and body for something great which I hope to achieve.  Here are pictures of my Camino:

I walk to the courthouse at least twice a day and always encounter beauty, whether it’s a sparrow in the grass or patterns on the sidewalk.  The flower garden in Gibson Park is full of color.  The River’s Edge Trail by Rainbow Dam is so peaceful and is also my favorite place to walk.

 

My sister and I walked the M trail behind the University of Missoula (go Griz!) and she inspired and encouraged me to keep walking and improving.  Thanks Sis!  I will always be thankful that my husband introduced me to the Camino de Santiago and we both hope to make the journey together one day.  Check out the movie on Netflix and see if you can walk away without being inspired.  Much hugs and love to you all!

Angie

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Angie sent me many photos over the years

Angie and I met at college in Rapid City, SD.  She and her roommate were just down the hall from me.  At the time, I was a huge Slaughter fan – if you listened to hard rock before Nirvana changed it all you know who I am talking about.  Angie also enjoyed listening to them.  We became good friends and she ended up inviting me to go with her to visit her dad in Iowa.  We had a great trip – lots of loud singing and Diet Coke on the road.  We played pool and her dad let us smoke in the basement.  We jammed the Wayne’s World soundtrack and roasted marshmallows in her backyard to the Dream a Little Dream soundtrack.  We also practiced doing the Electric Slide in her dad’s driveway.  I remember us finding out we both made straight A’s and her dad taking us out to dinner.  We also drove to Ames to watch Wayne’s World again.

When I got married, Angie drove all the way from Florida to be in my wedding.  We stayed in touch – writing letters and talking on the phone occasionally.  Over the years our communications became less seldom but I still thought of her often.  One February morning, her husband called me.  I had never spoken to him before so I knew something wasn’t right.  Regrettably, I was not able to pay the same favor back to her by driving down to Florida to be in her wedding.  Scott said that he received my card but in a thick voice, he informed me that Angie had passed away from a massive heart attack the year past.  He cried and told me how strong their girls were trying to be for him and the last things they said to each other.  Angie lost her father not too long before she passed away from a heart condition she inherited.  She was one of the best people I have ever known – a deacon for her church, loving mother and wife, faithful friend, caring daughter and sister.  She was at her father’s side when he took his last breath.

I only have a handful of pictures of her and several handwritten letters.  Angie is part of the reason why I write letters and mail greeting cards.  I can see her handwriting and the little smiley faces she made.  I can hear her voice and her laugh in the loops and curves of her cursive letters.  In the age of social media, letters from a friend who I loved and cared for are priceless.  I encourage you to write a letter a week to a family member or a friend.  It is so much more exciting to receive snail mail from a loved one than a bill.  Have a lovely Memorial weekend everyone and be safe!

The rose or the thorns?

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We celebrated Drew’s 21st birthday at the Allegra in the Wynn.  Chris Myers was eating dinner there and he wished Drew a happy birthday!

Yesterday, Drew had his 6 month checkup with the heart and lung doctors.  Drew has Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy, a life-threatening form of MD that attacks muscles all over the body, including vital muscles like the heart and muscles that help us breathe.  When we took Drew to see the doctors about 7 months ago, his numbers went down, so naturally we were nervous and afraid.  To our surprise, the doctor came in the room, smiled, and asked me what I am giving Drew because his heart strength went up significantly.  It was a blessing and a relief.

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When the boys were young, they participated in Eaglemount, therapeutic recreation for disabled kids & adults.  Christian wasn’t afraid of the horses.

Not too long after receiving the good news, I kept wanting to ask about Christian.  Why did he have to suffer so much?  Why was his heart so much weaker?  WHAT DID I DO WRONG?  WEREN’T YOU PAYING ATTENTION?   Most of the time, as I have been reluctant to accept, we will never fully understand or even know exactly what happened until we see our loved ones again in heaven.  I believe we will experience so much peace and joy in God’s presence that it will not matter.  Even when things go well and life gives me roses, I still want to hold onto the thorns.  What will happen if I stop being so sad?  Will I forget his voice, his smile or his strong spirit?

Part of healing is being thankful for each day and living each day as I know Christian would want me to live.  I have had my pity parties and it’s normal when we are grieving, but after a while they actually do more harm than good.  Complaining and being negative keep us from being all God created us to be and all Christian would want me to be.  There were so many things Christian was not able to do and he accepted it most of the time.  So many things that are mundane or even grievous to the rest of us were all Christian ever wanted.  He wanted to work, run track and do the same classwork as the rest of the students.  He wrote letters until he could not tolerate sitting up at his computer anymore.  He tried reading the bible from front to back until his pain started and he had to spend most of the day tilted back in his chair.  He did everything he could until his last breath that chilly October morning, which feels like it was yesterday and like it was ages ago at the same time.

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I will focus on the roses in life and not hold onto the thorns.  I will honor my son’s life by thanking God for the new day when my alarm goes off.  I will be thankful that I can work and that I have my health.  I will be thankful for clouds as well as sunshine, Mondays as well as Fridays, unpleasant people and sweet people, sour and sweet.  I will live.

 

 

Light Pierces the Darkness

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It has been several weeks since my last post and since then, we have gone on vacation and survived the spring forward time change.  The robins are back and the trees are blooming.  I have put off writing again and again because admittedly, I have been depressed.  Not just the “I’m having a bad day” kind of depression, but the kind that makes your bones ache or   feels like a heavy weight is on your chest and you have to talk yourself into getting out of  bed a lot more than usual.  This is not easy for me to admit.  I had the hardest time trying to pinpoint the cause or event that triggered this cloud that has been hanging over my head – is it grief, lack of exercise or fun, my diet?  Although all of these things can contribute to depression, the antidote that makes a world of difference in finding the light again is contained in one word:  GRATITUDE.

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Years ago, I started a gratitude journal.  I kept it on my nightstand and made myself write down 5 things I was thankful for from that day.  Despite the prognosis of my sons’ disease, I was able to find the joy in life almost every day.  As the surgeries increased and the care took longer and became harder, and as I had to watch my oldest son endure pain and loss that was completely unfair, I stopped writing in it.  A few months after we lost Christian, I bought a new gratitude journal.  I may write down something big like “I am thankful for receiving an unexpected refund in the mail today” or something small like “I am thankful for the chickadees singing outside of my window.”  Anything big or small that we can find to be grateful for can lift us up.  We literally have to lift up our heads and look around so we can notice the beauty of God’s creation, which in turn lifts up our hearts.  A heart of gratitude sets the stage for God’s blessings and His favor.  It also opens windows and doors for goodness to flow into our lives and invites joy into our hearts.

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A Tune in my Heart

After work today, I met my husband and son for dinner at our favorite Mexican restaurant.  I think we all have one of those.  Our favorite restaurant serves authentic cuisine and  warm corn chips.  Afterward, they were off to play poker and I reluctantly headed home.  Alone isn’t a bad thing, but coming home to a quiet, empty house is a painful reminder of the loss.  Over Christian’s life, the most time he ever spent away from me was during MDA summer camp which lasted for a week.  When you care for a child with special needs, you develop a deeper connection, especially when you physically care for them 24/7.  When Christian passed away I felt like I was thrown into an alternate universe.  After 16 months I have become used to the new normal, but I still have moments when the realization that Christian isn’t with us makes my world turn on it’s side for a bit.  Over time the dizzying effect doesn’t last as long but it will never be easy, just bearable.

Almost every time I have found myself alone in the house missing my boy, I turn on the music.  Christian had so much passion for music.  He enjoyed 90’s rap like NAS, current rap like Wiz Khalifa and Kid Cudi, and classics such as the Rolling Stones and Paul McCartney.  He talked me into buying several vinyls during the last year of his life.  He encouraged me to buy the vinyl even though I had the CD because the quality would be worth it.  Christian even talked me into buying music that he knew I enjoyed but he didn’t much care for either way.  He grew to enjoy a lot of my favorite alternative bands like Interpol and Bare Hands.

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One of my prettier vinyls by Blondefire

They say that it changes a person when someone you love dies.  That is an understatement.  I felt hollowed out for the longest time and had to rediscover who I was.  I was a caregiver for both boys for over 10 years.  It took me weeks, even months, to stop setting out two sets of pills at mealtime.  Not all of the changes have been negative.  I would never have believed it if someone told me I would gain anything from losing someone who was as much a part of me as Christian was.

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I took this photo at Crystal Lake last summer.

When I see a beautiful sunset, I see so much more than what I used to see.  I see something amazing and holy.  I feel a stirring inside of me that I have never felt.  I see and feel God when I see the rays shining through the clouds, the chickadee in the pine tree, the beautiful pattern on the carpet at work from the sun shining through the window or when I see the stars in the sky.  I feel a joy inside that I can’t explain when I look at things that to another person, may seem like nothing.  It makes me feel guilty at times.  How can I have moments of joy after losing my son and watching Andrew deal with the same complications as Christian did?

When we lean on the Lord, the amazing happens.  The journey of grief is far from easy but we do not have to endure it alone.  God heals us.  God loves us.

As I listened to a song by Deathcab for Cutie, which Christian also enjoyed, I heard guitar melodies I didn’t hear before.  Music touches me at a deeper level, bringing me to tears or making me want to get up and dance (listen to Stolen Dance by Milky Chance and you’ll know what I mean).  Just knowing Christian and caring for him has given me a deep appreciation for life.  I want to reach out and help those who have lost a loved one and I pray and I cry for them.  I will not waste my pain.  Instead I will find a way to help in a way that I know Christian would be proud of.  I hope my posts offer a bit of hope and remind you that you are never alone.

 

 

Let’s Go Racing!

Tomorrow is the Daytona 500.  We are usually excited but even more so this year since we will be going to the race in Las Vegas next month.  When we received our tickets it was bittersweet because only three arrived in the mail instead of four.

In years past, we invited friends over to watch the race or made sure we had plenty of pizza and snacks to celebrate.  Over the years the boys started watching more races and picked their favorite drivers.  Drew is a Dale Earnhardt Jr. fan and Christian liked Jeff Gordon.  You can imagine our disappointment when Jeff Gordon announced his retirement, which just happened to be the year after we lost Christian.  It was bizarre seeing Jeff Gordon in the announcers booth with a suit on instead of on pit road in his fire suit.  I know Christian would have been bummed out not seeing the Dupont car on the track.

Since we lost Christian, I cannot hold the tears back as the National Anthem is performed or when Darrell Waltrip yells “Boogity, Boogity, Boogity!  Let’s go racing!”  I would like to share some photos of our trips to Las Vegas to see the race.  Christian and I just loved it when Darrell would yell at the beginning of each race so if you get the chance to tune in, even just for the “Boogity,” say it out loud for my son.  Enjoy!

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Christian wore this shirt almost every Sunday.  We set it out for the Daytona race last year.
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I became a Brad Keslowski fan after this moment.  He pushed the table aside for the picture and was very kind and patient.
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Kurt Busch was the first driver the boys ever met.  I am thankful he took a few moments for this photo.
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Dave and Drew all smiles as we wait for the green flag.
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Christian said meeting Michael Waltrip was the highlight of his last trip to Vegas!  The smiles say it all.

The Silver Lining

Too many people miss the silver living because they’re expecting gold.  -Maurice Setter

When I got married, my husband and I had it all planned out – we would have careers, at least three kids, and we would be the best parents we could be (supportive, encouraging, and active in our children’s lives).  The career part worked out eventually.  We were young,  moved a lot, and anyone who has been in the military knows how difficult it can be to adjust to civilian life.  We had two sons and always did everything we could to keep the boys active, healthy and happy.

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We took a trip to Fairmont Hot Springs in 2003

When the boys were diagnosed in 2001 with Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy, our dreams started to shatter.  Our boys never learned to ride a bicycle with two wheels, they were never able to learn how to drive, or able to participate in team sports.  I worked at a title company for a few years before I had to leave to care for the boys due to the progression of their disease.  I watched them lose the ability to walk, stand, raise their arms above their heads and I had to feed my oldest son during the last two years of his life.  We had to constantly adjust to our new “normal” as the boys needed more and more help with the things most of us take for granted.

Towards the end of Christian’s life, I had more and more difficulty finding the silver lining.  It was easier when the boys were younger – so easy to say it would never happen to us.  “A cure will arrive in time.”  “The disease will stop.”  “If I take the best care of the boys that I can, even at the cost of my own health, I can make this monster go away.”

I became miserable because I was focused on the gold that we never found.  I can look back now and see that Christian looked for that silver lining up until the last night of his life.  He asked me that night if we could take a day trip to Lewistown.  He still had hope.

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Christian’s smile will always be a gift to all of us

After losing Christian and continuing to watch Andrew deal with some of the same issues and complications Christian dealt with, you would think that the silver lining would be gone for good.  How can I see anything good come out of losing my son?  What kind of person would that make me?  There isn’t a single cell in my body that could possibly be glad my son passed away.

As hard as it is for me to admit, there is still a silver lining.  There will never be gold, but I’m okay with that.  What is the silver lining?  It is contained in the little things – the things that Christian taught me to appreciate.  Things like music, a bird on the feeder, sunshine on my face, a chance to make someone smile or laugh, the quiet moments during the day, a cup of hot coffee, being able to spend time with an old friend, or watching a good movie with my family.  I can be thankful that Christian is no longer suffering and that he didn’t have to pass away at the hospital, that he will never have to worry about another doctor appointment again, or see fear in my face as I watched him fade, that he is with the Lord, that he is at peace, and that he will only know love.

It is far too easy to focus on what we don’t have instead of what is under our very noses.  The all or nothing approach to life only leads to disappointment.  What if we were to do our very best with what we have?  Why not focus on what a person did right today instead of on what they did wrong last week?  If we expect our lives to be perfect, we will miss the miracles – the miracles that surround us each and every day.

Jump!

A few days ago, my husband had me watch a video clip of a motivational speech by Steve Harvey of the Family Feud.  Steve Harvey video   He starts by saying that every successful person has one thing in common.  They have all jumped.  They took a leap of faith.  They realized what their God given gifts were and they jumped in head first.

I truly believe that when each of us enters this world, God blesses us with certain gifts and talents.  Some of us may have one, others may have 5 or 10.  Once we identify our gifts, we need to jump.  Steve Harvey said that the only way we can soar is to jump and pull the cord.  Once we do, we have to be determined to keep going through the doubt, rejection and pain.  Eventually we will come out on the winning side.

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Think about the inventors of the past and how far they had to jump to create the light bulb, the automobile, plastic, or Apple Computers.  One of the best biographies I have ever read is on Steve Jobs.  Where would we be right now if Bill Gates and Steve Jobs didn’t jump?  I wouldn’t be able to share my heart with you on my MacBook or even find a way to deliver it.  In reality, most of us are not as brilliant as Thomas Edison, Albert Einstein or Stephen Hawking, but we can make a bigger impact than we think.  It wasn’t smooth sailing even for the geniuses of our time.  They jumped, overcame and soared.

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We are all more capable of making a positive impact than we realize.  My son, Christian, wanted to make a difference.  He wrote a good part of a spy novel but stopped when his disease started to accelerate.  He wasn’t able to join the football team or play basketball but he did play his clarinet until he didn’t have the strength to sit up and cope with the pain.  He spent the last 18 months of his life tilted back in his chair but he still hardly ever complained.  His courage and grace impacted everyone he came into contact with.

What about the rest of us?  What are we capable of?  I have come to realize that I have a knack for photography and writing.  My sister overcame great obstacles to earn her G.E.D., becoming a volunteer fire fighter and EMT and is now in the best shape of her life.  How many lives would have been lost if she never jumped?  I encourage you to watch this video and to believe that God fulfills all of his promises.  He wants us to soar.  At some point, we have to ask ourselves if we are living or simply existing.

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Despite the physical limitations of Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy, the boys earned their GED’s in 2012.
I can hardly think of a time when God did not get me through difficult times.  After we lost Christian, I felt like I was falling, skinning my knees and having my heart ripped out every single day.  It’s still not easy, I still have moments when the reality of his death practically knocks me down, but God has helped me up from day one.  Steve says that our parachute does not open right away.  It most certainly did not for me until recently and it didn’t for my sister either.  I am pretty sure that most olympic athletes skinned their knees many times.

I encourage you to jump.  Stay with it until you soar.  Believe in yourself because God does and I believe in you too.  Do it.  Jump!