Someday I'll meet my Prince Charming, because I'm a daughter of the KING!

This post is one from my eyes. It's a lesson that I've come to finally learn after time and time again of missing the affection and attention of a boy. I tried too hard to dress to impress, and look good wherever I went. But finally, just finally, I've realized something very important: settling is NEVER the answer, no matter how much you miss the attention. And I know that I'll meet somebody someday, I just have to let it happen. Love can't be forced.

So, life has been pretty busy the past 2 years, so I really didn't have time for dating... And, honestly I was stuck at my house all the time, so how would I have the chance to meet anybody? Naturally, being a teenage girl, yeah, I'd love to have a boyfriend! But I can't date if I'm not out in the world.

A lot of girls are known to go to college to get their "MRS" degree, or a "ring by spring". At the beginning of my Freshman year, I told myself, Pshhh, Jenae, you're definitely not that girl. You're going to learn more about Photography and Graphic Design. If you meet a guy, great! If not, be patient! But slowly I found myself paying less attention to my classes and more attention to who was in them. If there was a guy I thought was cute, I found myself trying to become friends with him or flirting with him. Everyday I would walk in hoping that a guy would sit by me. Yes. I reached the lowest level. I became desperate. When I realized how desperate I became, I was so embarrassed. I told myself I would never become that girl! And what did I do? I became that girl...

But in this past six months of being stuck in my house or at the hospital, I've had a lot of time to think. No, I can't change who I am, God made me the way He wanted to, and I have to accept that and learn to love myself before I can love someone else. Sure, I can lose weight, dye my hair, wear make up and all that, but don't you want your future spouse to love you for who you are, no matter what you look like on the outside? A good friend of mine taught me that. I've always prayed for God to send me my "Prince Charming" and I've always hoped that it would be like, maybe I dunno the next day, or at least in the next month... But that's not how prayer or God works. It's not like mail order, or a fortune cookie. Everything is on God's time, he is the author of this story, not me. I just have to wait and see what the next chapter holds.

It's so funny... All of this is SOOOOO much easier said than done. But today I finally realized a very important lesson: I am a daughter of the King, and someday I will meet my Prince Charming! I cannot and will not let any boy walk all over me, no matter how much I miss the affection or attention of a relationship. I am worth more than that. I don't need to be in a relationship to be happy! My relationship with God is the most important thing in the world, and is what I should be (and what I should have been) focusing on the entire time. How am I supposed to love another human being if I can't even love myself, let alone love the Master and Creator of the universe whole-heartedly and unconditionally? That's the lesson here, folks. By no means am I swearing off dating for awhile or anything, I'd be happy to go on a date or two. But what I have to realize is I have to be patient.

I know this seems like the typical "girl power" post, and if you're reading this, I hope it finds you well. It's really random, but to me this is an important lesson to be learned, especially at the age where you're looking for the person you're going to spend the rest of your life with. You don't want to look back 50 years later and realize that you settled for someone who doesn't deserve you, and in turn who deserves someone else.

God has a plan for everyone, even YOU. Pray everyday, and thank Him everyday. Because you never know when that someone might just pop up. :)


Peace and Love,
Jenae

I have a half Cambodian sister!

 So this blog is titled, "Through Another's Eyes" for a reason. I wanted to share stories from other people as well as my own! This post is special to me, because it comes from my best friend and sister, Cassie White. Right now she's in Cambodia, teaching children how to speak English, and also teaching them the word of God! Just from reading her posts I can already tell that she has made a huge impact on those kids' lives, and that they have made an impact on her. I'm so proud of everything she has done and the beautiful and amazing woman she has become over the years I have known her. Thank you, Cassie, for being my sister and for always being there for me when I need you. I love you so much! And I cannot wait to see you when you get home! 

If you want to read her blog, you can find it here at: Called to Cambodia

Confessions of a Nineteen Year-old English Teacher

Y'all. 

Sometimes I'm a really bad english teacher. 

Sometimes I take too long to erase the board so I can have extra time to think of lesson plans.

Sometimes I let my students out too early. 

Sometimes I just stare at them because I have no idea what to say.

Sometimes I have no idea if what I'm teaching them is right. 

Sometimes I have no idea what to even teach. 

It's real. 

So I'd like to dedicate this post to all my english teachers that I've had through out the years. Thank you for putting up with me and teaching me. I know now *did you catch that? I really typed that on accident* how hard this crazy language is to teach. So thanks a bunch. 

Today God and I had a moment at the whiteboard.

As I wrapped up my morning session, I asked my students who was going to pray today. And of course they all point to each other and volunteer everyone but themselves. As they were doing this, I told them that whoever prayed had to do it in english today. 

UPROAR.

The volunteering of others got even more persistent and I finally gave up and let them pray in khmer. But I told them that they were going to have to pray in english soon. After the prayer, Pum asked me if I could teach them a "unit of pray in english." I excitedly agreed and we said our good byes. After lunch and naptime, *Selah told us that everyone in Cambodia sleeps after lunch. We aren't complaining* I stood up in front of the class and began to teach my prepared "unit of pray in english."

Well let me just tell ya that it did not work out. Sythourn was sitting in on Sarah's class since he is pretty far a long in his english learning, which is wonderful! Except for the fact that he acted as my lifeline and translated a lot of the time for me. Liq is also good at understanding me and was nowhere to be found today. *I found out later that he slept all day*

I stood at the board and struggled to teach these boys how to pray. If only they knew what their prayers were saying in english. If only I knew khmer. After about 15 minutes of me trying to teach and the boys trying to understand me, I finally gave up. I turned towards the whiteboard and began erasing. 

This was one of those bad teacher moments where I spent a little too long erasing on purpose. I had absolutely no idea what I was going to teach. I shut my eyes, said a quick prayer, put the eraser down, and turned to face my expectant students. I walked back to my podium and just simply asked them:

What do you want to learn?

Guess what?

The understood me!

They responded with the word "conversation" and then proceeded to rattle off "hello, how are you, I am fine, thanks..."

I was overjoyed and they could tell. I immediately wrote a sample "small-talk" conversation on the board and taught them how to respond to each of the questions. After we got done with that, it was time for a break. During that time I stumbled across an ESL website that had sample conversations for basically any subject. 

HE HEARD MY WHITEBOARD PRAYER

After the break we jumped right into it. We learned how to introduce yourself, how to introduce your friend, and how to carry a conversation by asking "and you?" 

I made them come up in pairs and have a conversation in front of the class. It was hilarious. We were all laughing at each other and the boys were loving it. They kept making fun of me because I was dancing around a little bit. I was just so happy. The next hour flew by and they thanked me for teaching them how to have a conversation and asked me to teach more about it tomorrow. Prayer time came up and they asked me if I could say it. I gladly agreed. I had a lot to thank God for. 

I made sure I spoke slowly as I thanked him for my students and their willingness to learn. I asked him to grant them wisdom and the ability to retain all of this knowledge. I prayed for safety and strength to finish out the week strong. And then I said amen. 

I am not a perfect teacher.

I never have a lesson plan and when I do, it never works. 

I don't know how to teach them everything.

I don't know the answers to all of their questions. 

But I absolutely love those boys. 

They'll learn to pray in english someday.

And I can't wait until that day comes.

I may have a lot more whiteboard prayers before then. 

But I don't mind. 

So again, thank you to all my english teachers. 

I owe you guys. 

Blessings, 

Cassie 

Ps: Some amazing huddle leaders once taught me to "stay focused" in all situations and I think that lesson works beautifully in this situation. Thank you Varners and Kerns, you're wisdom is helping people around the world. Love you guys SO much! 

"Therefore, my dear brothers, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourself fully to the work of The Lord, because you know that your labor in The Lord is not in vain." 1 Corinthians 15:58

Peace and Love,
Jenae

Again,  you can find Cassie's blog here at: Called to Cambodia

"Name and birthday please?" "Jenae Hardcastle 10/11/93"

This is my story. Well, really mostly stories from the ER, along with a few thank you notes and some thoughts. Please read the whole thing. I just want to share some of my experiences with you. They aren't all good, but from the bad I've grown and learned a lot. I feel closer to God than I've ever felt, even when, years ago, my life seemed perfect...

It's been a crazy ride. And I've been through some crazy experiences. Some good, some funny, some amazing, and sometimes some not so good experiences. But from everything that I've gone through the past six or so months, I've learned a lot about life and people.

Because of my condition, I had to visit the Emergency Room a LOT the past year and a half because there would be times that my pain medicine at home just couldn't take care of the pain that I was in. Eventually, when the nurse at the triage desk saw me coming he/she would know what to do and I wouldn't have to go through the 10,000 questions that you would normally have to go through and we could skip registration and usually go straight through without waiting in the waiting room (That was nice, especially because of the amount of pain I was in).

But just because I got in quickly, didn't mean every visit went smoothly. We've discovered there are different kinds of nurses: the ones who really care about you and want to help because they love what they do, the ones who do it only because it's their job, and the ones who have done it so long that they're just going through the motions, not realizing how they treat you. Now, I've had all three of those nurses, but two nurses in particular stick out to me.

In the category of "not-so-good experiences", I've repeatedly been put with one nurse who just absolutely flabbergasted us the first time I had her. They say, "Don't judge a book by its cover", but when I saw her for the first time, I knew it wasn't going to be a fun experience. She looked tired, grumpy, and like she just really didn't want to be there (Given it was like 2:00AM, but still, it's no excuse). When you first go in to the room, the nurse asks why you're there. My doctor had called ahead to make sure they knew what my problem was and what medicine I need, but even then I still have to explain my condition. I gave her a short version of my story and she went and got my medicine. She came back and while she was giving me my medicine, I gave her a longer version of my history and what was going on, and after I was done, she started to tell me that if I had done this, or if I had done that differently, then I wouldn't be laying there on that bed in the ER getting all these drugs. That night, my dad was with me and he sat there next to my bed just speechless. How could this woman tell me that I was living my life wrong for a year and a half? How could she sit there and look me in the eye and say that if I had exercised more, or if I had stopped drinking cokes, that none of this would have happened? I would have exercised if I could. I like Dr. Pepper, sorry I'm not sorry! But that didn't cause my nerve damage! She had never met me. She doesn't know what I've been through. She doesn't know how I came to this condition. Actually, nobody does, and we probably never will. So she gives me my medicine while she's telling me this, and then leaves. It's been 30 minutes, I've felt no pain relief at all. I tell my dad and he goes to get her and when she comes back, she just says, "Well, I'll just go ask the doctor what he wants." Now imagine that you're in excruciating pain, been in the ER for 45 minutes by now, and your nurse is rolling her eyes when you ask for pain medicine. She comes back and says the doctor said to give me Phenergan and more Demerol (the pain medicine). So she gives it to me, without saying a word I may add, and, what do you know! I feel that burn going up my arm from both medicines (And trust me, you know when you get the Demerol). So what does this tell me? Well, in my mind this tells me: "What did she give me the first time? A placebo? Just saline?" Most nurses don't agree with the treatment I receive, but that doesn't mean you change the doctor's orders. Obviously, we have no proof that she used a placebo, and we'll never know, but if I could, I would prove it to you. A second time I had her, it was a couple months later and when she saw me it was like I knew exactly what she was thinking, "Oh great, why are you here again?" I know what you're probably thinking... Jenae, you don't need to assume that she was thinking that. That's just making a rash judgement. Well, we get in the room and she says, "You again? Scott and White didn't fix you?" ... Really? How about, "Hey, how are you feeling?" or "I'm sorry you're in here again!" ...  So she gets the doctors orders and gives me my medicine. This time my mom is with me, but she knows about this nurse from what my dad and I told her. This nurse can't say much while giving me the medicine, (and she actually is giving me medicine), because my mom spends the time telling her about what happened at Scott and White (That's a whole other story...), and all about the trial stimulator that I was going to be getting in a few weeks. So she tells me that she hopes it works, because she "knows how horrible and dangerous it is to be putting so many narcotics in my body all the time". Yes, I've heard that speech before, from about every other doctor and nurse at the hospital. So weeks pass and I have the trial for the spinal cord stimulator. As most of you know, it worked GREAT. I hadn't felt so good in months! But of course, all good things must come to an end, right? The trial only lasted a week, and it took about 6 more weeks until I finally got the permanent one. Well after feeling great for a week and not having to take as much pain medication, going back to no stimulator was not a good experience. The first couple of days weren't too bad. But come the third or fourth day, that pain began to return to my body and I sure felt it. So, naturally, I ended up back at the ER. Both of my parents came with me this time, and, of course, you know who my nurse was. Yes, this same woman. Now, I thought to myself, "Maybe third time's a charm?" Wrong. She takes one look at me, rolls her eyes, grabs my wheelchair, sort of chuckles out of disbelief, and takes me to my room. I was already crying, but now I'm just sobbing. I did NOT want this woman taking care of me... So what happens in the ER is a nurse can't give you medicine without doctor's orders. What people don't realize is, you can't just go in and talk to one person and get medicine and be done. You have to tell triage what's going on, then your nurse, then your doctor, and then and only then can you receive medicine, (and that's IF the doctor will even give it to you). She puts me in a room, says something along the lines of, "I'm guessing the same thing right? What happened with the stimulator? I thought that was supposed to fix everything. Why are you back here again?!" We explained what happened and she just says okay. Now, I know that I'm not a nurse's only patient. I get that. But for me to go to the ER, I have to be bawling and screaming because I'm in so much pain (And I'm usually the only person making noise in the ER which would be embarrassing if I cared at that moment in time). She had a patient that she had to take up to a room. We asked very nicely if she could at least start the IV and get the doctor in here while she did that so we could get the ball rolling, but that wasn't the case. She simply says, verbatim, "Look, I get you're in a lot of pain right now, but I got a guy that needs to go upstairs, so you'll have to wait a minute." (More like 20!!). You may be reading this thinking that I'm exaggerating, but I promise you, I'm not (Just ask my parents). She gets back and after the doctor sees me she puts my IV in and brings me my medicine and starts talking. She isn't the only not-so-good nurse I've had in the almost maybe like 30 times I've been to the ER, so I've learned to tune them out and let my parents do the talking for me. I was crying and in a lot of pain, and she kept telling me to calm down and breath while she did the IV. Well, I tried as hard as I could (I got down to like the sniffles...). She tells me to hold out my arm, so I do, then she says, "Relax!" and shoves it down on the bed, which makes me more upset. But she gets the IV in and starts the fluids and starts the medicine and she starts to have the same conversation as the first time! Telling me that I was doing something wrong with my life and that's why I ended up there. Well, this time, we had had it up to HERE with her (Imagine me, holding my hand up to an imaginary height). My dad just stands up and says, "You know, she's in a lot of pain, can you just give her her medicine please?" Well, boy, did that shut her mouth! I would too if somebody like my dad, who of course always wears his Harley Davidson shirts when he goes, said that to me! When she left the room, I just said, sort of groggily since I had just gotten pain medicine, "You go, Dad!" It needed to be done. And the rest of the night she was nice and quiet.

I know that my treatment plan wasn't ideal, and pretty much every doctor in the ER told us that they didn't agree with it. Some would even refuse to give me the amount that my doctor ordered because they disagreed with it. I know I'm 19, and I used to take a large number of pills every day. It isn't my fault, and it wasn't by choice. I didn't ask for a concussion, (Okay, maybe I kind of did on that one...asking my dad to be the one to blob me), I didn't ask for Mono, I didn't ask for Occipital Neuralgia, and I for sure didn't ask for Fibromyalgia. Being in college and being responsible for taking medicine four times a day isn't as easy as it sounds, especially when you leave your dorm in the morning and don't get back until late afternoon. I would never ask this on anyone, not even my worst enemy! Maybe just Satan...

But you know, yes I did have a lot of not-so-good and very upsetting times, it wasn't all that way. I've had some really amazing experiences and met some really incredible people along the way. My favorite nurse, her name is Buffy, every time she would see me coming in, she would immediately say, "Jenae! Honey! Come on, I'm going to take care of you." no matter who was at the triage desk or what she was doing at the moment. Even if I didn't have her as a nurse, she would come see me in my room and check on me. I remember one time she was my nurse and she had a nursing student with her. She told him to do the IV, but to never do it in the crook of the elbow. What he didn't know, is that's one of the best places on my arms. He's looking everywhere on my hands and forearms and he even blew a vein, and so he goes to get Buffy and she comes in and says to me, "Jenae! Why aren't you telling him what to do?! You know where your veins are, you know what you're doing!" And she came in and got it on the first try. He was a little embarrassed, but we had a good laugh. We explained how I've been to the ER so many times and he understood what she meant. She was right though, there have been times where I've had to fix the blood pressure machine or the thing around my finger or my arm because the nurse didn't do it right and couldn't get my blood pressure. It's rather amusing when I'm the one showing nurses things. My parents and I get a good laugh out of it every time (So does the doc!) Another time I remember I came in just sobbing and shaking because I was hurting so bad. She was at the triage desk and when she saw me come in she immediately stood up and told someone else to take over because she had a patient that she had to take care of. She took me straight back and let me answer all the questions in the room after I was calmed down and had some pain medicine in me. She made it a lot easier to be there in the ER, and I was so blessed to have her as a nurse the many, many times I had her. She is definitely in the right place and doing the right job!

So there's been some bad times, and there's been some good times. But would you believe me if I said there were funny times too? Hospitals aren't all scary and depressing like some people think they are. Sometimes they can be fun. Or, funny. I was going to tell this one story but...well, never mind. ;-) But one time we were in the Waco ER, and I was waiting to be transported to Scott and White in Temple, and I really needed to go to the bathroom. So I'm wondering the halls of this ER and I look into this one room and I see something. Here's the picture. You'll know when you see it.

 

There's a mannequin in a hospital gown!! At first glance I freaked out because I thought it was a real person! I literally jumped backwards and gasped out loud, then turned out around to make sure nobody was looking. Thankfully nobody saw. I got back to my room and told my mom to come look and she had the same reaction, and we both just laughed all the way back to my room. There was one nurse one time and her hand was shaking really bad, and she was sent to do my IV. Well, I was still afraid of needles at that point, so I'm just like, "Ummm..." and my brother is sitting behind her with the funniest expression on his face, like, "Is she serious?!" But she got my IV in on the first try and it didn't even hurt. She knew what she was doing, and, yes, even though it scared me half to death, I tried to trust the nurse no matter what. Other times we've seen some crazy families, overheard some funny conversations, and been through things that we can't even share with people. The more time you spend in the hospital in the middle of the night, the crazier things can get.

I've saved this story for last, simply because it changed my entire view on people. It sort of mixes in with all the different categories, depending on the time of the story. Remember earlier how I said, "Never judge a book by its cover"? Well, with the nurse, she was an open book, and she let her feelings show...or, she just said them out loud... But in this situation, this man was the classic story of misjudgement. This was one of the few times that we had to wait in the waiting room. He was an elderly man in a wheelchair, who...didn't seem to be all the way there. He kept asking the security guard the same question, I don't know what it was, we were too far away to hear anything. But the guard looked rather frustrated so I could tell this guy was a little bit of a nuisance. He noticed how much I was sobbing and how upset I was (I was in a lot of pain), so he came over and started talking to us, well, really my dad. My dad told him a little bit of what was wrong and he just said, "Oh bless your heart sweetie." and put his hands on my shoulders. Now, when I get bad enough to where I have to go to the ER, I can't even have people touching me because it hurts so bad. So my dad and mom were both trying to explain to him that touching me hurts, but then we all heard what he was saying. He was praying. He was talking to God, asking Him to take this pain away from me and let me live again. It was the most beautiful prayer that I've ever heard, and I felt like it was God's hands on my shoulders, not his. It simply brought me to tears. I couldn't hold it back, I just started sobbing even more! (Which made my parents think that he was hurting me, but he wasn't). How could I judge this man so harshly without giving him a chance? I felt like he was a guardian angel, or God Himself, there to calm me in the midst of a storm. I never felt so at peace in the hospital before. I didn't see him the rest of the night, or when I was leaving. I'll always remember that moment, and how close to God I felt. I found a quote that describes it perfectly. It says, " Those who don't understand true pain, cannot understand true peace." -Anonymous. 

I know this was a really long post, and if you're still reading, then thank you for sticking with me! I could go on and on with different stories, good and bad, all day long, but even I wouldn't read a post that long! Just trust me when I say, it's been a long and difficult, yet fulfilling, journey. It'll never be "over", but for now, I'm not in the hospital, I'm not in as much pain, and I'm slowly getting off all the medicines I'm on. I registered for fall classes, I'm doing physical therapy every day in our pool, and I'm ready to get back into life! I've spent a lot of time away from my friends, and a lot of time by myself or with my parents. Which isn't a bad thing, I love my parents and would die if anything ever happened to them, and I love spending alone time with God. But I miss my friends.

And I am ready to be around people again, and I want to feel like I'm a part of something again. Like I belong somewhere. It might take awhile to get back into the swing of things, but I'm ready, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes. I thank the Lord every day that this spinal cord stimulator works and that I finally found the answer to our prayers, other than narcotics. I can't even begin to describe how grateful I am for you, yes YOU, for reading this, and for believing in me and praying for me since the beginning, or even since yesterday. I know that there are people out there that I don't even know who are praying for me. And THAT, my friend, is more comforting than you'll ever know. God puts people in our lives for a reason, and he places us in situations for a reason. I may not know mine yet, and I may still be angry with God, but all I know is He is a giving God and a gracious God. He will set me free from this burden and someday I'll be able to help somebody through their own situation. 

Here's where I have some people to thank...

I have been to so many doctors, I honestly can't count how many there were. But there are three that stuck with me till the end, along with the Boston Scientific team. Paul Watts is my pain management doctor, and good family friend. We started going to him after my neurologist moved away from Abilene back in August, and he has been there for me ever since! I've had doctors tell me "Oh it's just a headache." or "It's just migraines, try this." They weren't just headaches, and they definitely weren't just migraines. It was hard going from doctor to doctor and getting no results, or having them all say the same thing and then just give up right then and there and not go any further. But Dr. Watts stuck with me and never gave up on finding a solution to the pain I was having! Which led us to Dr. Chad Stephens. He works in Decatur at North Texas Sport and Spine, and welcomed us in with open arms! He did the stimulator that went on my ear, (which was not a fun experience...), and he also did the trial stimulator in my back, with help from the Boston Scientific team. For the trial, I had to be awake so I could tell them what I felt and where I felt it. And trust me, it was a terrifying experience. I HATE the operating room. I've gotten used to needles, but I will never get used to the OR. But despite the bad experience, Dr. Stephens kept me calm the whole time and he encouraged me to keep going and to remember why I was doing this. He had his iPod on the Christian Pandora station playing in the background, which helped me a lot, because I could focus on the music rather than the procedure. Along with Dr. Stephens was the Boston Scientific team: Todd, Brad, and Rebecca. They were in there with us, sort of guiding him and then programming the remote. They were also very encouraging to me, helping me along and getting me through it. The week of the trial, Todd and Brad would call me just to check on me and see how I was feeling and how the stimulator was working. I was also able to call them and ask them any questions I had, at any time of day! And they remembered who I was and everything. It was pretty awesome. For the permanent one, I had Dr. Stephens' partner, Dr. Nieves. He. Was. Amazing. He agreed to do the surgery without even meeting me first, because we weren't able to get down there for pre-op (which is unusual for a doctor to do!). He was very kind-hearted and made things so much easier to go through. Before they took me back, he actually prayed over me and for the procedure to go well, which absolutely calmed every nerve I had left. Afterwards, he went out to the waiting room and just hugged my parents and told them how good I did and that everything went perfectly and it was just so encouraging to have a doctor that treated you like you've known him for years, when really you only met him the day of the surgery. All of these people have one thing in common: they never gave up on me. And I can't thank them enough for that. I'm actually in tears writing this because I'm just so happy that God placed them in my life at exactly the right time. It may have been a little bit later than I would have wanted but it all worked out in the end. Thank you, Dr. Watts, Dr. Stephens, Dr. Nieves, Todd, Brad, and Rebecca, and Boston Scientific for making such amazing technology. I am blessed to know you.

We moved here 13 years ago, because my dad got the Youth Ministry position at Hillcrest Church of Christ. He's now the Family Minister and a big part of the church. I've always been involved with the church, whether it be VBS, mission trips, VIP Camp, retreats, Trek, HEB Camp, and even teaching. But for the last six months, I haven't had the privilege to even attend church. Because of my condition, I've had to miss Trek two years in a row, go home from teaching at Encounter, miss helping out with VIP Camp, miss HEB Camp, and miss a couple of mission trips. All of those events mean a lot to me, because of the memories I've made in the past at those places. So you can imagine how upset I was each time having to tell myself, No, Jenae, you can't do it... I'm sorry... But for the past six months, my church family has been there for me, even when I couldn't be there with them. I can't even tell you how many cards I've received in the mail from past Sunday school teachers, close family friends, even people I don't know! But that's what makes it so special: they're all my family. Angie Pittman was my boss at Taco Casa my sophomore year in high school, and I've known her ever since. But through her health problems and mine, we've become closer and closer. I've always looked up to her as a Christian role model, and through our illness, God has brought us together as sisters in Christ. There may be over 900 people at Hillcrest, and I probably know maybe 150 of you, but I want to thank each one of you who kept me in your prayers the past year and a half, or even maybe just the past six months. Prayer is powerful and when people come together for one specific purpose, they can move mountains. It might have taken awhile, but this mountain has been moved, and I couldn't have done it without my family, my church family. I feel more loved and cared for than I ever have before, and I just wish there was more I could do to thank you. Whether you said one prayer or a thousand, you mean the world to me, and God heard you. Take it from me, never give up on life. When you have 900 people behind you, ready to take on Satan with an iron fist, you can do anything you put your mind to. So to my church family, thank you. Thank you for taking down Satan and thank you for keeping me alive through this rough patch in my young life. You are truly a blessing to me.

These verses below are some that really helped me get through this past year and a half. They were very encouraging to me and I hope that they can be to you, too.

"The prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well. The Lord will raise them up." James 5:15

"Lord, look at my affliction and my pain and take away my sins." Psalm 25:18

"The sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is going to be revealed to us." Romans 8:18

"The Lord is close to the broken hearted, and saves those who are crushed in spirit." Psalm 34:18 

"Cast all your anxieties on Him,  for He cares for you." 1 Peter 5:7

"We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure." Hebrews 6:19

"God's voice is glorious in the thunder. We can't imagine the greatness of His power." Job 37:5

"Always be joyful. Never stop praying." 1 Thessalonians 5:16-17

"Have patience. God isn't finished yet." Philippians 1:6

And of course, "He will keep you strong till the end, so that you may be blameless on the day of our Lord Christ Jesus." 1 Corinthians 1:8

I learned a lot since January of 2012. I learned that some people don't change, and some people aren't what they seem. I learned that some things don't last, and you have to say goodbye to certain things. I learned that even when you feel like you've lost everything, you'll find that you've lost nothing. I also learned that some medicines can make you sweat, or gain weight (Ugh, still working on getting those pounds off). But the most important lesson? Your family will always be there for you. Even at 4AM. Even when you're screaming in your sleep because you're in so much pain. Even when you have a nurse that you just want to punch in the face. They'll even make you do some things you don't want to do, like get help. But I'll look back on this year and a half and know that I had the best parents to take care of me, even when they had work the next day, or even if it was their birthday! (Sorry, mom...). And to know that my brother and sister would come have dinner or just sit with me at the hospital while my parents were gone, is just so wonderful. To know that I have my church family behind me every step of the way is absolutely incredible, and hard to fathom sometimes, knowing you have hundreds of people ready to help you. And to my best friends, who are more than just my best friends, my sisters and my brothers, it's no coincidence that God made our pathways cross. You mean the world to me. Please, please never give up on me. Know that you're more than my friend, you're my brother or my sister in Christ. All of these people, I can't even name because there's so many, and those people I don't know, they have all helped me in some way or another. Thank you. Thank you.

Finally, it is well with my soul.

From my very first procedure....

 To the final chapter. 

It's time to start my new book. 

Peace and Love,

Jenae