By Erin Elizabeth Austin
I've always enjoyed watching sports, but I've never played. I never tried out for a sports’ team in school, or even had the desire to try out for a team. Even though I was something of a tomboy as a little girl, I knew I didn't have the hand-eye coordination needed to be a good athlete. There was no doubt in my mind that if I did try out and make the team, I would forever sit on the sidelines. I would be a benchwarmer. I don’t have the personality to be a benchwarmer. I’m the type of person who likes to do things I know I can do well. The idea of being only mediocre has always bothered me. Because of this sentiment, when my lupus and Crohns forced me to quit work and move in with my parents, I really struggled. I felt like God was forcing me to sit on the sidelines, and I hated it. By Erin Elizabeth Austin
I often surprise people when I tell them I had a horrible self-esteem as a child/teenager. Those who know me today can’t imagine the shy, quiet Erin of years gone by. Truth be told, I had more than a low self-esteem. I hated myself and longed to be anyone other than me. For several years in high school, I avoided mirrors because I didn't want to be reminded of how hideous I was. Because of this self-loathing, I set-out to improve myself. I vowed to be the best at everything I did because I “knew” this would improve my self-worth. So I worked, and I worked hard. I might not be supermodel material, but I had a brain and a little bit of talent. I pushed myself to be one of the top students in my class. I won awards in the state of North Carolina for my skill as a clarinetist, and I made a name for myself as one of the best writers on the school paper. I even won an award for my journalism prowess. By the time I graduated from college, I had a GPA of 3.94. I had worked extremely hard and achieved a great deal, but if I’m honest, it wasn't enough. I still wasn't satisfied with myself. I still wished I was someone else. Oh, I felt I had more value as a person than I did before I achieved these things, yet I felt like my worth was based on what I accomplished, which created a huge problem for me when I became too sick to work. By Josie Siler
There’s a story that has been going around for several years about a man named Tomas Martinez. He lived in Bolivia, he was homeless, and he inherited $6 million dollars. That’s right, $6 million dollars. Do you want to know the sad part of this story? He never received it. The story is told that when the police found him to tell him this fantastic news he ran away. They chased him, he escaped, and they were never able to find him. Supposedly news stations picked the story up and tried to find him as well. Everyone was looking for Mr. Martinez to tell him the good news. Why would anyone run away from such great news? According to the story Mr. Martinez thought that the police were trying to arrest him because of his substance abuse. How the story ends varies. According to one report the money was then given to his ex-wife because he was never found. According to another story the inheritance came from his ex-wife upon her death and still belongs to Thomas, though he is still living as a homeless man and is unaware of his fortune. I don’t know if this story is true or not. Regardless, it applies directly to what we have been learning in Ephesians. Our study in chapter one continues by talking about the inheritance that is ours in Christ. The God of the universe who created absolutely everything – including you and me – has an inheritance for us! Can you even begin to imagine what that looks like? Verse one says that “we have obtained an inheritance” - past tense. It is ours. Just like Mr. Martinez we have been granted an inheritance. This inheritance, our salvation, comes through Jesus. Verses 13-14 tell us, “In Him you also, when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and believed in Him, were sealed with the promised Holy Spirit, who is the guarantee of our inheritance until we acquire possession of it, to the praise of His glory.” When we believe in Jesus and what He did for us on the cross, God sends the Holy Spirit to guarantee our inheritance until we are able to fully acquire it when we see Him face to face. This inheritance isn’t for a lucky few; it’s for all of us – any of us. Anyone who has a relationship with Jesus qualifies. By Erin Elizabeth Austin
Of all the things I have had to endure because of my chronic illness, there is one thing I never expected. For me, it came out of left field. I was prepared for the frustration which comes with living with a chronic illness; I was expecting physical anguish and massive medical bills; I was even ready to persevere through agonizing days when I was tempted to quit. But there was one problem I never knew would exist for a person battling a chronic illness – people. Call me naïve, but I never expected people couldn't handle my sickness. It’s not like they were the ones forced to endure countless tests from multiple doctors as if they were some great lab experiment. It’s not like they were the ones who had to pop numerous pills throughout the day to help their body cope with an illness. It’s not like they were the ones who had to spend day after day and night after night in pain. So why would my sickness be a problem for them? By Josie Siler
If you are living with a chronic illness or are caring for someone with a chronic illness, you are accustomed to suffering. You are familiar with the physical suffering due to the disease, as well as the emotional suffering of lost hopes and dreams, broken relationships, lack of understanding, hours of solitude, etc…. We each have a mental list of ways that we have suffered due to the illness(es) afflicting us. Some things on our list affect us more than others, but they all change us. By Josie Siler
The word “adoption” means different things to different people. Hearing that word may bring you great joy or it may cause you deep pain. It may fill you with hope for the future, with regret for the past, or with fear and uncertainty about what’s to come. When I hear the word adoption, I remember a grade school friend and the day that her adoption became official. She was so excited to be a permanent part of the family who loved her so much. I also think of the friends I have who have adopted a child. I think about their stories, no two the same. The adoption process is full of what seems like miles of red tape. It’s a difficult and lengthy process, but for the parents who persist, the rewards are great. As painful and as beautiful as adoption can be, it affects the child being adopted in profound ways. The child takes on a new name, moves to a new home, meets new relatives, and in some cases learns a new language. In essence, they have an entirely new identity. For many children, this is a difficult thing. Adopted children can struggle with identity and self-worth. Most adoptive parents have thought about adoption for years and they spend months preparing to bring their child home. They chose their child, they want their child, and they love their child so much. That’s what God did for us. By Erin Elizabeth Austin
This past Saturday, October 6th, was an anniversary of sorts for me. Admittedly, it’s an anniversary I never hoped to have, yet it marks a time that I’ve to come to see as one of the kindest things God has ever done for me. So what is this anniversary? It’s the day when a part of my life ended and another part began; it’s the day when doctors told me to quit my job and apply for disability. I was diagnosed with lupus when I was in high school, so I was used to being sick. I learned quickly how to push through the constant pain and fatigue of living with a chronic illness. One could say I learned how to become a fighter. Some might argue I shouldn’t claim to be a fighter, yet without having a fighter’s spirit, I would have never persevered through life’s adversities. Many times I refused to quit, even though my circumstances screamed that I should. Because of this, I struggled immensely when my doctor told me I was too sick to work. The stubborn Irish side of me screamed that the doctors were wrong. Unfortunately, my body and mind didn’t agree on what I could do and what I couldn’t, and because I refused to yield to what my doctors and body were saying, almost every organ and joint in my body became inflamed. By Josie Siler
If you are a fan of football, you’re familiar with the drama caused by the replacement referees. If you are a fan of the Green Bay Packers, you fall into a unique category of super fans that may never get over the Seahawks unmerited win. I just so happen to be a Packers fan and owner. The Packers are the only team in the NFL owned by their fans. We have a vested interest in our team. This year I had the privilege of attending the season opener at Lambeau Field. The stadium was full of 70,523 screaming fans. I understand what it means to be a fan; as fans, we’re for our team and against anything or anyone that comes against our team. We cheer for our team with reckless abandon. In a recent sermon my pastor said, “Sometimes we think God is angry at us, but that’s not the case. He is a fan of yours and He is cheering you on.” For those of us living with chronic illness it’s easy to think that God doesn’t care about us, but it’s just the opposite. God is our biggest fan! Being a Packers fan, I have screamed “GO PACK GO” more times than I can count. In fact, if I type “go” in a message on my phone it suggests “PACK” as the next word! It’s crazy for me to think that as loud as I cheer for my Packers, it’s barely a whisper compared to the volume and intensity that God is cheering “GO JOSIE GO” as I live the life He has given me. By Erin Elizabeth Austin
Patience Beard knows what it means to be “different.” When she was six months old, Patience was diagnosed with Proximal Femoral Focal Deficiency, a disease that affects bone growth. Because of this, Patience had part of her left leg amputated when she was nine months old. Although labeled as “handicapped” and “disabled,” Patience’s family refused to treat her as such. She grew up learning how to ride a bicycle, run, play, do gymnastics, and cheer. That’s right; when Patience was in the seventh grade, she joined the cheerleading squad at her school. She performed every cheer, every jump, every flip, every dance, and every stunt. Patience refused to let the pain and discomfort of having a prosthetic leg keep her from following her dreams. Today, Patience is a freshman at the University of Arkansas; she’s also on the cheerleading squad. At every game, Patience can be seen with the rest of her team cheering on the football team. Although the majority of people in Arkansas know who Patience Beard is and her story, she refuses to fade into the background. She doesn’t pretend she doesn’t have a prosthetic leg. Instead, she embraces her “disability.” In the ninth grade, Patience asked her doctors to outfit her prosthetic leg with a zebra pattern. Patience believes what her mom taught her about living with a disability, “It’s who you are. Don’t be ashamed. This is you.” 1 |
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Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. AuthorErin Elizabeth Austin is a writer and speaker with a passion to help people find healing in the midst of their brokenness. ContributorJosie Siler, like millions of others, is living with chronic illness. She is eager to share the hope and joy that she has found in Christ, whether that is in a church, at a women’s retreat, over a cup of hot cocoa, or through a blog post. Archives
November 2018
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