Blog Category: “a disabled life”

sometimes, it’s embarrassing

By admin,

i dont know, maybe it’s me, but sometimes suffering is embarrassing. when it’s prolonged, and so outwardly apparent, and creates so many needs. living through brain injury and brain cancer, and losing someone to brain cancer, and now thinking about a smaller type of cancer, it’s another need. another reason for people to pray. another reason for maybe some to think that our faith is too weak. another reason for “i just feel so badly for them.” yes, here we are again, friends, needing healing, and relief, and strength. 
i don’t know what the Bible says about it. ian would say it’s just a feeling. but it’s there. and i’m sure we’re not the first ones to feel it. so that’s probably why i want to say it out loud. and i know that it is good for us to be cared for, and prayed for, and to ask for prayer. and i’m sure that somewhere Jesus can satisfy and heal it. but sometimes, it just sits there in our gut.
as for ian’s appointment, it may not be cancer, but they will treat it as if it were. we will be scheduled for two outpatient procedures in pittsburgh, so we will just say overnight at a hotel. they will remove the nearest lymph node and have it tested.
thank you, truly, for praying. even if sometimes it feels, embarrassing:)
i&l

  Filed under: "a disabled life", "the dross"
  Comments: None

a mini ian, someday?

By admin,

throughout our engagement and into our marriage, many inquiring minds, who are strangers and not dear friends, have asked about our ability to have children. surprisingly, because of our  disability, there has seemed to exist an assumption that those questions are appropriate, when none of them were asked to our friends who are in full health. not that these questions are wrong, but they’re not helpful either. here’s why.
in any marriage, how does anyone know if they can conceive until God reveals a yes or no? 
with or without disability, no one can answer that question except for God. 
and so that’s where we leave it. we would both love to be parents. i would love to have a mini ian running around, filling our lives. maybe not yet. maybe not for a long time. maybe next year. maybe we’ll have biological children, or maybe we’ll adopt. 
just like we don’t want people to assume things about our own life and future, we don’t want to assume on God. He may call us to raise 10 children who look and sound just like us or he may just keep providing nieces and nephews for us to spoil. either way, “before me, as behind, God is and all is well.”
i&l

  Filed under: "a disabled life", "family", "marriage"
  Comments: None

what I want all my girlfriends to have

By admin,

i remember sarah telling me that she was shocked to see ian showing affection to someone – she was used to him being the sarcastic life of the party. willing to talk to anyone, but also not shy to say funny things that may or may not be taken well. but he was in love, and this friend that she had known since she was little and had been homeschooled with was actually outwardly showing his love.
that’s the ian that i fell in love with. and that’s me that he was showing affection to. he would gently hold my hand – as gently as he could considering that he has the fattest fingers in the world. to me it often felt like a vice grip. but it was still so sweet.
but then for a few years, that hand didn’t have life. it couldn’t squeeze when it wanted to or reach out to find mine.
that’s different now.
that same ian seven years ago that shocked sarah is still marked by gentle affection. and he can make that hand move again. since we’ve been married, one of my favorite parts of my day is falling asleep holding my husband’s hand. and one night as i lay there, i realized that this is what i want all of my girlfriend’s to have. a gentle husband who is so happy to fall asleep with hands bound. 
i’m thankful tonight to be married to a tender heart.
love
l

  Filed under: "a disabled life", "marriage", gratefulness
  Comments: None

I have a brain injury, too

By admin,

On Friday after work, it was warm in the 70s, the end of the day was on my mind followed by two more work-less days. Driving home with the windows down, I watched as people were jogging, playing tennis, sliding down the homemade slip-n-slide outside their college apartments. My desires to “do something” were growing. And I was so glad to not be at work.

But then I got home and saw Ian sleeping, so tired from his cold, and not able to go for a run with me. Or even a walk. And his disability again freshly became mine. And I had to try to fight to let my desires to go out and enjoy something die.

This is what it’s like to be married to someone with a tbi. I imagine it’s the same for someone who is chronically sick, or has special needs, or who is dying. Their sickness becomes their spouses sickness. I have a brain injury, just like Ian. Because when we became one flesh, I gained his sorrows. Just as Jesus was a man of sorrows and has shared in them with us, I share them with Ian. And while it is a gift of marriage, it is painful and sad.

We could probably write a whole book on this topic alone. Because it changes everything about our life, even mine. But Jesus knows it more deeply than us, and if we can just rest there, we will be filled.

Thank you, always

Larissa

  Filed under: "a disabled life"
  Comments: None

sometimes, it’s embarrassing

By admin,

i dont know, maybe it’s me, but sometimes suffering is embarrassing. when it’s prolonged, and so outwardly apparent, and creates so many needs. living through brain injury and brain cancer, and losing someone to brain cancer, and now thinking about a smaller type of cancer, it’s another need. another reason for people to pray. another reason for maybe some to think that our faith is too weak. another reason for “i just feel so badly for them.” yes, here we are again, friends, needing healing, and relief, and strength. 
i don’t know what the Bible says about it. ian would say it’s just a feeling. but it’s there. and i’m sure we’re not the first ones to feel it. so that’s probably why i want to say it out loud. and i know that it is good for us to be cared for, and prayed for, and to ask for prayer. and i’m sure that somewhere Jesus can satisfy and heal it. but sometimes, it just sits there in our gut.
as for ian’s appointment, it may not be cancer, but they will treat it as if it were. we will be scheduled for two outpatient procedures in pittsburgh, so we will just say overnight at a hotel. they will remove the nearest lymph node and have it tested.
thank you, truly, for praying. even if sometimes it feels, embarrassing:)
i&l

  Filed under: "a disabled life", "the dross"
  Comments: None

a mini ian, someday?

By admin,

throughout our engagement and into our marriage, many inquiring minds, who are strangers and not dear friends, have asked about our ability to have children. surprisingly, because of our  disability, there has seemed to exist an assumption that those questions are appropriate, when none of them were asked to our friends who are in full health. not that these questions are wrong, but they’re not helpful either. here’s why.
in any marriage, how does anyone know if they can conceive until God reveals a yes or no? 
with or without disability, no one can answer that question except for God. 
and so that’s where we leave it. we would both love to be parents. i would love to have a mini ian running around, filling our lives. maybe not yet. maybe not for a long time. maybe next year. maybe we’ll have biological children, or maybe we’ll adopt. 
just like we don’t want people to assume things about our own life and future, we don’t want to assume on God. He may call us to raise 10 children who look and sound just like us or he may just keep providing nieces and nephews for us to spoil. either way, “before me, as behind, God is and all is well.”
i&l

  Filed under: "a disabled life", "family", "marriage"
  Comments: None

what I want all my girlfriends to have

By admin,

i remember sarah telling me that she was shocked to see ian showing affection to someone – she was used to him being the sarcastic life of the party. willing to talk to anyone, but also not shy to say funny things that may or may not be taken well. but he was in love, and this friend that she had known since she was little and had been homeschooled with was actually outwardly showing his love.
that’s the ian that i fell in love with. and that’s me that he was showing affection to. he would gently hold my hand – as gently as he could considering that he has the fattest fingers in the world. to me it often felt like a vice grip. but it was still so sweet.
but then for a few years, that hand didn’t have life. it couldn’t squeeze when it wanted to or reach out to find mine.
that’s different now.
that same ian seven years ago that shocked sarah is still marked by gentle affection. and he can make that hand move again. since we’ve been married, one of my favorite parts of my day is falling asleep holding my husband’s hand. and one night as i lay there, i realized that this is what i want all of my girlfriend’s to have. a gentle husband who is so happy to fall asleep with hands bound. 
i’m thankful tonight to be married to a tender heart.
love
l

  Filed under: "a disabled life", "marriage", gratefulness
  Comments: None

I have a brain injury, too

By admin,

On Friday after work, it was warm in the 70s, the end of the day was on my mind followed by two more work-less days. Driving home with the windows down, I watched as people were jogging, playing tennis, sliding down the homemade slip-n-slide outside their college apartments. My desires to “do something” were growing. And I was so glad to not be at work.

But then I got home and saw Ian sleeping, so tired from his cold, and not able to go for a run with me. Or even a walk. And his disability again freshly became mine. And I had to try to fight to let my desires to go out and enjoy something die.

This is what it’s like to be married to someone with a tbi. I imagine it’s the same for someone who is chronically sick, or has special needs, or who is dying. Their sickness becomes their spouses sickness. I have a brain injury, just like Ian. Because when we became one flesh, I gained his sorrows. Just as Jesus was a man of sorrows and has shared in them with us, I share them with Ian. And while it is a gift of marriage, it is painful and sad.

We could probably write a whole book on this topic alone. Because it changes everything about our life, even mine. But Jesus knows it more deeply than us, and if we can just rest there, we will be filled.

Thank you, always

Larissa

  Filed under: "a disabled life"
  Comments: None