Morning Cuppas With Glenys

Beatitudes for a housewife

Blessed is she whose daily tasks are a labor of love; for her willing hand and happy heart translate duty into privilege, and her labor becomes a service to God and all mankind.

Blessed is she who opens the door to welcome both stranger and well-loved friend; for gracious hospitality is a test of brotherly love.

Blessed is she who mends stockings and toys and broken hearts, for her understanding is a balm to humanity.

Blessed is she who children love, for the love of a child is more to be valued than fortune or fame.

Blessed is she who sings at her work; for music lightens the heaviest load and brightens the dullest chore.

Blessed is she who dusts away doubt and fear and sweeps out the cobwebs of confusion; for her faith will triumph over all adversity.

Blessed is she who serves laughter and smiles with every meal; for her buoyancy of spirit is an aid to mental and physical digestion.

Blessed is she who preserves the sanctity of the Christian home; for hers is a sacred trust that crowns her with dignity.

Blessings, Glenys

Author unknown- Taken from the Yankee Kitchen Cookbook, 1969

Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price [is] far above rubies. Proverbs 31:10

I have been ill with fibromyalgia for about twenty years now. In that time, lots of things have changed, and one of them is my personal hygiene routine.

One would think that taking a bath or a shower would be an easy thing to accomplish, but if you suffer from chronic fatigue, fibromyalgia, back problems or angina problems like I do, you would realise that it consumes a lot of your spoons. So I had to do a bit of rethinking of my daily routines. I've discovered that one of the places that takes a lot of my spoons is the bathroom.

Because bathing and drying and dressing exhaust me, I varied my time in taking a bath depending on how well I feel. If I have enough energy, I would bathe in the morning, if not I would take a shower before bed as Chris is home and he helps me get dried and into my nightie. (When you are chronically ill, you quickly get over being humbled by needing assistance- you are grateful for any help available.)

I have found that if I take a bath or shower in the morning I am left with no energy for the rest of the day. If I take my shower at night, I have just enough energy afterwards to get myself to bed, which works out much better.

Hot baths or showers leave me too exhausted and give me angina pain, so I take showers with only warm or tepid water. While I would prefer to shower every day, showering is best done every other day for me to avoid flare-ups of pain, fatigue and soreness. I have decided on some new course of action to make time in my bathroom more fibro-friendly.

One of the first things I changed was how I take a shower, or rather, the position in which I shower: sitting. Here I find those telephone type showers are useful. When I get out of the shower, I sit down to dry off.

I can no longer blow dry my hair so by necessity my hairstyle has been wash and air dry for years now. Time in front of the sink brushing my teeth or washing my face has been modified by resting one foot on a stool while standing. Because of spinal problems and being a short person, I have a glass in my bathroom which I fill with water and use for rinsing and cleaning my toothbrush without straining to reach the tap.

I no longer wear makeup, the standing in front of the mirror and the use of my hands in holding the various tools of the task, is now limited to special occasions only; it is too painful a task to do on a daily basis. Also, my face is so sensitive that it breaks out in red welts at the slightest pressure... which includes smearing on foundation. This is called dermagraphia.

The bottom line is taking a shower is a real workout now. In addition to modifying how I take a shower, I am going to follow these 3 rules: I will only take a shower at night, I will only take warm water showers and I will only take a shower every other day. With the employment of a good deodorant after each shower and a fresh change of underwear each night and morning, I have found that I don't offend anyone and remain feminine and dainty.

Life with chronic illness is complicated, but at least I manage to stay clean while living it! No need to not enjoy staying dainty!

Coping with anxious thoughts

In the wake of the Corona Virus, and political unrest, comes anxiety and fear for the future and for a lot of us-(let's be honest-most of us), we don't know what to do with our days.

Being at home is both exciting and challenging and it can leave us unsure of what to do and how to handle it.

My friend, Mrs Sylvia Britton of Christian HomeKeeper is a very gifted writer. She has blessed me so much with writing her Lists for the chronically ill woman. I follow them most days and they have helped me so much for many years now.

Sylvia graciously allowed me to post her Lists here and on my other blog and I am eternally grateful.

Recently she has written a post which is so very helpful for us concerning coping with isolation and the Corona Virus. Once again, she has graciously allowed me to share this with you. Thanks again, my friend.

Here is what she wrote:

We’ve been in semi-isolation because of covid19 for 4 weeks today. It is very similar to how we live our lives as older, semi-retired people. So, we’re not doing too badly here. I do miss my children coming ’round and I miss all the sweet little grandchildren being here.

It is a little harder for my husband who is newly without a job from being laid off. I say newly, but he’s been without work for 6 moths now. Still, it’s new for him, he has worked all our married lives and longer. So, I think it is a little harder for him to adjust. I, on the other hand have been ‘at home’ for over 35 years.

Since I am an old hand at being at home, I have a work flow, a way of doing things and getting things done, resting, participating in hobbies, chatting with friends online and then doing more work, that he is just now developing for himself. But in all, we’re staying busy.

This is the key to being content during this strange time in our world: staying busy. You remember of course that old saying that idle hands are the devil’s workshop? I also believe that an idle mind is his workshop.

But by staying busy I don’t necessarily mean work, work, work til you drop! What I mean is, your mind needs to be occupied with noble thoughts and good things instead of worry and sin.

It is possible to go sit under the tree outside and rest and still be busy with positive and good things.

Don’t dwell on tomorrow.

Don’t worry about yesterday.

Don’t stress that you can’t do more today.

Just do what you have in front of you to do.

It might be dishes, preparing a meal. It may be reading a book or drawing a picture.

Write that letter.

So, stay busy friends. Find some project that you would like to have done at your house or in your self and work on it. Whether it is a puzzle that has sat on the shelf for too long or cleaning out a room, starting a new Bible study or weeding a flower bed, now is the time to do it.

This will all end and you’ll be able to do more, go places and enjoy friends again. In the mean time, do what you can and do it well.

Wise words and so encouraging. If you want to be encouraged and are a Christian woman, you might want to join her FaceBook group: Christian Homekeepers

Blessings, Glenys

Everyone helped his neighbor, And said to his brother, “Be of good courage!” Isaiah 41:6

Hang in there! a repeat for it's important

We chronically ill women always have times when we feel that we are barely holding it all together. We are literally becoming unravelled and we feel like we are hanging on by a thread.

Flares, unrelenting pain, immeasurable fatigue, depression and lack of restorative sleep can all add to the feeling that we can't go on. Even breathing seems like an effort.

It is in those times that we must reach out to God and ask Him to give us the strength to get through each day- or especially the night which seems the longest when we long to sleep but can't.

We need to try to listen to the Word or put on some Christian worship music, and give ourselves over to relaxing as much as is possible for someone in the grip of pain or depression. But we have to focus on something positive, or else we will be getting a one way to the Pit of Despair. We don't want to go there.

By focusing on something positive, we can actually release endorphins, those chemicals that reduce pain and increase a feeling of well-being.

Reaching out to God during these times is critical to our staying in control emotionally. But we must do it, in faith.

If the woman with the issue of blood hadn't reached out to Jesus by touching the hem of His garment, she would not have been healed.

I am not necessarily saying that you will get healed, even though it is possible of course. But you will be lifted up to a higher level of coping with it all.

Worship and praising God whilst suffering is the most exquisitely beautiful act of trust and reverence. It will lift us up and set the enemy of our souls to flight.

So, next time you are feeling you are hanging by a thread, make sure it's the hem of Christ's garment.

And suddenly, a woman who had a flow of blood for twelve years came from behind and touched the hem of His garment. Matthew 9.20

Some small comfort!

Most of us have waited and prayed for many years for a fibromyalgia diagnosis. Meanwhile while we wait, we have been treated as malingers and have often been offered ill informed advice from people who don't even understand what fibromyalgia is. Many of us have been dismissed by doctors or told it is all in our heads as they write a referral to a psychiatrist!

We Fibromites know it's not in our heads but our muscles, tendons, neck, knees, and joints. We can hardly stay awake in the daytime, and given that we can't even sleep at night in comfort, we are often sleep deprived and anxious as we await our diagnosis. One that we are hoping will be key in helping overcome this horrid syndrome as well as validate our pain to others.

All these things prior to diagnosis are all brutal in their own way. And most pain relief does not really help us even after a diagnosis of fibromyalgia. The pain is debilitating. So are the flares which are limiting. The spoons for daily living are scarce. Or non existent.

It hurts us further that the fibro fog that robs us not only of clear thought but words, is the only thing that people can notice. All other stuff is invisible therefore to some our pain doesn't exist, especially as we usually don't look sick...

As there's no cure and very little that helps, our life doesn't change much after a diagnosis of fibro.. but even so, at least it has a name and that is some small comfort!

Fear not, for I am with you; Be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, Yes, I will help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.’ Isaiah 41:10

Making a difference!

As sacrificial home keepers, we still can achieve a good deal in creating a peaceful home for our family. We can still make a difference: it just takes extra planning and energy and consulting our lists!

"What really does work to increase the feeling of having a home and its comforts is housekeeping. Housekeeping creates cleanliness, order, regularity, beauty, the conditions for health and safety, and a good place to do and feel all the things you wish and need to do and feel in your home.
Whether you live alone or with a spouse, parents, and ten children, it is your housekeeping that makes your home alive, that turns it into a small society in its own right, a vital place with its own ways and rhythms, the place where you can be more yourself than you can be anywhere else." by Cheryl Mendelson, Home Comforts: The Art & Science of Keeping House

I have posted lists that show how we sacrificial home keepers can stay on top of things by planning and pacing. I hope they will be of some help to you. Feel free to print the Lists out if you want.

No matter how little we do or how big or small our home is, we can still be like the Proverbs 31 woman and and still live out Titus 2. We can still make a difference!

"So teach [us] to number our days, that we may apply [our] hearts unto wisdom" Psalm 90:12

Pain changes people!

In dealing with my fibromyalgia flares, I find dealing with the accompanying mental pain is just as bad as dealing with unrelenting physical pain. It is just as difficult to bear.

Usually a mild mannered person, after coping all day with searing pain in my muscles, topped off with an inability to sleep soundly, I can fly off the handle occasionally.

Yesterday for example, I managed to catch up on my dishes, which turned out to be a three part marathon. Usually Chris puts them away but yesterday it didn't happen.

My fingers were paining me, my back ached and my legs didn't feel like they could hold me up. Unfortunately, a feeling of resentment overtook me, and I yelled at Chris for not doing his part.

I love being a wife and homemaker, but when everything is hurting at once, and not sleeping well because of the pain, resentment rose up in me.

Resentment that I wasn't getting any help coupled with no pain relief and tiredness made me verbally buck and shy like a wild stallion. Along with resentment of my lack of help came resentment that my body has let me down.

Once resentment kicks in, it opens the door to self-pity and depression. I don't like yelling at Chris, particularly as he is usually not only helpful but emotionally nurturing and supportive.

I have found that at times like this, when pain causes me to blow my stack, that like an overtired toddler, I need to rest. So I put myself to bed for a nana nap.

But before I go for that nap, I apologise to Chris and go to sleep talking with the LORD and repenting of my bad humour.

Fibromyalgia pain never lets up, even in our sleep. It pursues us in our rest and deprives us of even the enjoyment of a brief period of respite in sleep. We toss and turn, trying to get comfortable- and that is even during the brief time our dry aching eyes are actually closed. It is not restorative at all.

I have had to learn to stop feeling false guilt for reacting to my pain when the levels are high enough to launch a rocket. That's how I feel during a flare. But I have got to remember that I didn't ask for this and am not responsible for succumbing to this painful syndrome.

I must remember that fibromyalgia pain-or indeed any pain, makes the vicissitudes of life that much harder to bear. Everything is exaggerated both physically and mentally, and the only thing I can do is accept that this is not my usual self, for pain changes people.

Do not cast me off in the time of old age; forsake me not when my strength is spent. Psalm 71:9

Give us the comfort of Jesus~

I recently saw a post from a Christian woman who blogs about marriage and who believes she is an authority on all things spiritual. Along with this narcissim, she has a very prideful and uncompassionate and judgemental attitude. Plus she will never concede that perhaps, just perhaps, she is wrong.

She was exhorting us to not allow any sin into our lives: gluttony was high up on her list. And whilst gluttony is a sin- (anything taken into excess especially that which is harmful- is a sin)- she proceeded to broadcast her lack of knowledge in weight and health matters, and made the blanket statement that overweight is always due to gluttony and that is therefore sin.

So many chronically ill people commented and her attitude was one of "pipe down you glutton and confess your sin!" Many overweight people- Christians- were upset by her and I join them. I wrote a reply as this woman needs to be made aware that her judgements are not only spiritually wrong but also medically incorrect....

OK. So I am obese. After 3 heart stents, an underactive thyroid that took years to diagnose, fibromyalgia, Scheurrmanns Disease, spinal stenosis, hole in the heart and a torn meniscus in the left knee plus years of Prednisolone due to polymyalgia rheumatica, I don't move around much.

Every single one of the 30 pills I must take daily add to my chronic fatigue and lack of alertness. I eat healthy food and keep to 1200 cals a day. Due to meds, I must eat with them and I cannot fast- but I have tried. To make a simple equation in physics help me lose weight, I would be able to consume a plate of lettuce once a day. Which is unreasonable and unsustainable.

I am very close to God and am under absolutely no conviction that I am either a glutton or a consistent sinner. I am however, absolutely constantly reassured of a God Who loves me as a Father loves His child and I confess I cling to Him in my daily living with chronic illness and consequent obesity.

To have prideful and uncompassionate people act like Jobs' Comforters is no help at all and very unChristlike. Where is grace? Why the judgements? Thank God we have one Judge and Advocate: I thank God it's Jesus.

It is a shame that this woman is so unsympathetic and strident: she speaks a lot of truth regarding marriage, but again with the caustic remarks and prideful attitude one sees in her adored author Debi Pearl, as seen in her horrible book Created to Be A Help Meet.

A Christian teacher should be gentle, not prideful, harsh and downright cruel. There are so many of us who are overweight and who fight it daily. We do not need to be told that we are sinning because of our weight. It is a sad state of affairs when we have the added pain of condemnation from an unlearned individual to contend with as well.

Let us be slow to speak and then to do so in love, just as our Saviour taught us. We need His comfort as we battle our weight and illnesses, not some self righteous cowgirl galloping in on her stallion. Job's comforters are not required- (not that she tries to comfort anyway) Give us the comfort of Jesus!

I have heard many such things: miserable comforters are ye all. Job 16:2

Being gracious to ourself.

In light of my last post, my friend and I were talking/typing online about things that make us feel guilty. Our conversation centred around sick family and our less than gracious treatment of them. Which we both now regret.

It made me think about the issue in a new light and gave us both some peace. Here is my reply to her:

Thank God He understands and doesn't judge us harshly. We both will have to pray that He takes away our guilty feelings. Until we both can forgive ourselves, we won't have any true peace. You have understood my guilt and I certainly understand yours. We should give ourselves grace. Sometimes we fail to be gracious to ourselves. Praying for you with love and understanding and knowing you will pray for me! (and remembering that sanctification is an ongoing process!) we are a work in progress!

We cannot undo what's done- what is passed is past. But we can let go of negative thoughts even about ourselves and purpose to do better.

If we have been convicted by the Holy Spirit and have confessed our sin, God is faithful and just to forgive us our sin. We must remember that self condemnation after forgiveness is from the evil one.

Knowing that these guilty feelings after repentance is an old pattern of thinking, we must bring our thoughts into the captivity of Christ.

Our sanctification is an ongoing process that doesn't stop until we are in Glory. As long as we are moving forward, we are doing well. We simply must be gracious to ourselves.

The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise. Psalm 51:15

Our little haven

So yesterday was a day of horrible fibromyalgia pain and fatigue. I felt a little down so I came to my couch and sat next to Chris for a cuddle and rest.

We love feeding the birds that come into our back garden and all through the day, our garden is like an airport. Birds of all types come to dine and drink and it is so restful and fun to watch them.

They have their own little antics and natures and they can be quite amusing. And apart from watching their different natures and antics they have something else that we find very attractive: they have babies.

It's such fun to watch the mothers feeding their babies and to watch the babies venture further and further from her as they learn to feed themselves. They fly but are still juvenile and yesterday their mothers were distancing themselves from their chicks and refusing to feed them, much to their annoyance.

The magpie juveniles are especially raucous and squawk even with food in their mouth. They are almost always feeding. The minor bird mummy also is weaning her chicks from her and as soon as she moves away, they follow like the duckling family juveniles do. So fun to watch.

But by far, my favourite birds are the Kingfishers which have also had babies. Whilst laying on the couch, I can see outside and I was delighted to see a mother Kingfisher with one of her three babies on our garden swing.

They were watching the porch which was covered in birdseed for the galahs and rosellas. I had thrown out some cut up luncheon meat, and they were waiting for the magpies to vacate the porch so that they could dine. Kingfishers are shy and besides, magpies are three times their size. So they wait.

It is the season for little white cabbage moths too. They are flying around the agapanthus plants and I guess they are mating because they seem to be in pairs. As are the pigeons that come for the seed.

There are three that regularly call in and partake of the parrot seed on the ground. There's a little female who just wants to eat, but there also is an amorous male who has romance on his mind. He pursues her constantly and hopes to make her his by dancing for her.

He fans out his tail feathers and hops towards her, then takes a few steps back. He repeats this courting gesture until she tires of him and runs a few feet away. But he is insistent and pursues her over and over again. I hope that he wins her heart as it is such fun to watch the young birds as they leave the nest under their mothers supervision.

We have a bird bath/feeder in the back garden which we used to fill with seed, but now with torn meniscuses in both knees, I cannot get down the steps to fill it, so they get fed from the back sliding glass door. I just toss the food onto the back porch. They don't care where it is.

They are quite used to me now and I have them almost eating out of my hand. So much so that as soon as I open the door, they come flying in to the garden from all directions, calling each other.

We have water in the bird feeder and in a plastic container in front of the steps. They bathe and drink and sing and they enjoy our back garden as much as we do.

It's a lovely place to recoup one's spoons during a fibromyalgia flare. The daily scenes are so peaceful and we love our little haven and we know the birds think of it as their haven as well. Their constant visits and frequent broods of chicks speaks of a place of plentiful food, water and safety.

We are grateful God lead us to this little country town- it is a gift from Him: our little haven

Thank You, God for forgiving me!

My mother died of dementia two years ago. My brother lived with her all his life, so when she became ill, he became her carer.

Just before it finally became necessary for her to go into a nursing home, my brother had a severe heart attack and so Mum came to stay with us while he was in hospital.

I remember this chapter of my life so well, and it is a shameful time for me and one I regret. Forgiven, yes, but I can't forget the way I treated her during that week.

We had just moved into a new rented home and we were extremely stressed. Mum was missing my brother and was concerned about him. Every five minutes she would ask if I would ring the hospital and enquire about him. I would tell her that we already rang and they said he was resting comfortably after having a stent put in.

I reassured Mum that as soon as he was allowed visitors, we would take her to visit him.Which we did. But still she fretted and wanted to go see him. After a while, it got very wearying.

The room where Mum was staying in had a holland blind that had chains for putting up or down, and when I took a cup of tea into her, I noticed the blind edge at the bottom had been pulled off.

Not even unpacked yet, I was upset that already we had damaged a new house. I realised that Mum had pulled it down instead of using the chain tracking. When I asked her if she had done it, she declared it wasn't her- it just broke. She was like a little child found with her hand in the cookie jar. To my shame, I was less than gracious to her.

She was on medication for a urinary tract infection and half an hour after I gave her her tablets, she said she felt nauseous. I quickly ran to the laundry and grabbed a bucket for her, but she shouted at me that she was not going to use that... and promptly started gagging.

I quickly guided her to the nearby toilet and lifted the seat up for her, but she refused to vomit into the toilet and in fact swung her head from side to side, projectile vomiting all over the walls and floor.

It was all so unnecessary, and as I cleaned her up and then cleaned up the toilet, I did so in a bad humour. I asked her how hard was it to use the bucket I had brought to her and pointed out the awful mess that I had to clean... and as my fibromyalgia was bad and my spoons scarce, I was very ticked off with her and having to clean it up.

Mum hung her head, and said quietly, "Well I used to clean up after you!" It brought me undone. I cried and held her and told her I loved her. It was a good hour before I could stop crying as I saw Mum as she was- a woman in a child's body, scared of what was happening to her and scared of me!

Later, we were at the table and I was trying to coax Mum to eat. She was a stubborn woman with a will of iron, and as I cut her bread and butter up to make egg soldiers, I realised that she was losing her battle fast. Her body no longer knew how to eat. The long goodbye was getting shorter. She was dying!

I cried before the LORD when I was in the bathroom, torn between grief and guilt for losing my temper with Mum. I had never done that before or since, but I stayed there until I felt calm again and purposed to be kinder to her.

Fortunately for Mum, she had forgotten that I had been cross and happily did a tour of inspection of the new house, holding my hand in case she got lost. She didn't know how to get back to her room or kitchen.

Although Mum had forgotten about it, I hadn't and to this day, I still feel ashamed of my lack of patience. I know God has forgiven me, and graciously arranged that when she passed, she was holding my hand and peaceful. It was healing for me and good for her.

Even so, there are times when I am grieving for her that I wish I could live that day again. I would be much nicer and kinder. Thank You, God for forgiving me!

Do not cast me off in the time of old age; forsake me not when my strength is spent. Psalm 71:9

It's all poppycock!

We have such a lot happening today in this world that is frightening. It's no use trying to pretend that we are not at all concerned about what's happening: we would be fools not to be concerned about it.

I won't lie and pretend that I haven't been fearful, but I make myself remember God's promises to be with us no matter what, and I can bring the fear into the captivity of Christ.

We must cling to God and His promises if we are to have any peace about world events. We have to run to Him and not from Him.

Some people feel that if a Christian is afraid that they are not truly saved. That is a lie from Hell. It is just another way that the enemy gets to us when we are down. God does not turn away from us if we feel fear. He wants us to run to Him. He's a loving Father.

In running to Him, we will be comforted and have peace and that is something the evil one does not want. Those who judge the fearful Christian by saying they are not saved because of being afraid are doing the evil one's bidding: causing defeat, misery and false guilt.

The Word says that nothing can separate us from the love of God. Jesus calls Himself the Good Shepherd.

And our Good Shepherd laid down His life to save us. He's not going to turn us away because we are afraid.

To suggest that a moment of fearfulness means we are not saved is dangerous. It denies our humanity. It presumes to judge. It spreads falsehood. It negates the work of God. It upholds the work of Satan. It seeks to nullify the Blood of Christ.

I am sure that God would approve of my judgement of this false teaching and nonsense by using one word to describe it: poppycock!

© Glenys Robyn Hicks

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever. Psalm 23