Tuesday, June 21, 2011


It's our fifteenth straight day of triple-digit heat in Austin.  I can't seem to stay hydrated, and I've been fainting a lot (adrenal failure - not enough cortisol - due to dehydration and overheating). 

Sunday I was in one of my oldest friend's weddings.  I missed half of the reception because I had completely passed out from the heat (the wedding was outside).  I spent that time sitting in a room by myself while my husband rushed around trying to get me what I needed.  He was awesome; I was depressed.

Sunday night - me to my husband, on the way home from the wedding: "I'm not sure, honey; I just know that I feel sad and...isolated.  Like, no one really understands what's happening, or cares that I'm sick.  I know that's gross (I hate self-pity, but, there you have it....).  I'm really sad.  This is really hard.  And I feel really alone.  I'm not even sure if our extended family gets it.  I mean, I sent out that detailed email about gluten and what's going on with me, and I haven't heard anything back from anyone."

Monday afternoon - on the phone with my dad:

Dad to me: "Hi Red.  I got your article on gluten, and I read it.  Then, this weekend, Les (my stepmom) and I researched gluten and its effects and, well, I've decided to follow a gluten-free diet."

Me to Dad: "You have!?!  That's great!"

Dad, Les, Gunnar, Lily and I spent the late afternoon at Costco learning how to read labels and choose healthier options (not just gluten-free ones).

I felt so loved.

And it occurred to me: isolation is the opposite of love.  Love is fundamentally a communal act.  It must be given and received to be experienced.  There must be at least two parties involved, even if one of the parties is unaware of how well they are loved or being loved in the moment.  Isolation is the work of God's Enemy.  Love is the work of God.

When I see isolation cropping up in my life - in my thoughts, my circumstances, my choices - I want to contend against it.  (Side note: isolation is different from giving yourself alone time.)  I want to reach out to those around me and ask for help, choose to trust, expose myself for what's really going on.  I know that, when I do, He will meet me.  Faithfully.  Every time.

Linking up with Jen at Soli Deo Gloria today.


  1. Oh girl, I am so sorry - I had no idea you were there! I saw Justin and did a double-take and then lost him in the crowd.

    I read your blog every time you post - you make me think and laugh and cry sometimes.

    I love it and I am so grateful you put your heart out there so often - remember that the pioneering ones have to be very brave.

    You are courageous, and the Lord walk near to those who step out, who open their mouths, who .... love. You do.

  2. Community is so important, and you're right -- love is a communal act.

    I'm praying that heat lets up and you get to feeling better! Take care.

  3. So fun about your dad -- I wonder if he truly knows how much it means to you -- on all levels.

  4. How is the gluten free thing going? I know when my daughter is here and I cook for her . . . it is time consuming.

    Thanks for fighting isolation.


  5. Oh you poor thing -- that's terrible, the fainting and everything. How scary for you. I only fainted once in my life and it really freaked me out (and bruised my elbow). Is the gluten-free diet helping at all? That is so sweet that your dad is jumping onboard in commeraderie (I can never spell that, sorry!).

    I hope you feel better soon!