Dengue Fever

I'm sitting at my community college looking over the balcony at blood drive sign-ups. I've just evaded a semi-embarrassing run-in with the overzealous petitioners of this event, who chase down any unsuspecting student, calling out, "Won't you donate to the blood drive? Please sign up for the blood drive. Are you interested in the blood drive?" Apparently I have the face of a persuadable victim. As soon as I hit the lobby I was singled out and berated by the same questions, to which I called back, "Sorry, I can't. I caught dengue fever." Definitely the most fun I've had so far today. The guys face dropped. I waved good-bye as he waved back with a blank stare as unto the walking dead. He didn't know a person can donate blood 4 weeks after recovering from dengue. He probably just knows what I know after looking up symptoms online, "The bone breaker illness," whose victims experience bone crushing pain, intense pain behind eyes, blackouts, fever, rashes, and possibe bleeding from ever orphace of the body before impending death. The internet covers it all and then some. It's true what they say about self-diagnosing, never do it...Unless you find yourself in my situation.

This story testifies to the creative, kind nature of God who, I'm convinced, doesn't use this life as the end all but, through it, prepares us for a reality of life in His love for us that can be experienced now and in life after death.

JULY 2010- Myself,  several youth advisors, and a significantly sized group of youth left for an outreach to Haiti. We prayed over one overwhelming concern from parents, "What if something happens to my kid?"  When we reached base several of the staff and other teams had caught illnesses. Probability was against us, however we left with no issue. Houses were built, people were saved, healed, and we overcame significant spiritual attack from the local witch doctor. (I could, should and maybe will write about that another day.) I was so thankful when we got off that bus with every kid accounted for and every limb attached. We all went home and I thought the trip was over...

Several nights later I had a dream. In the dream I was sleeping in PA with all the youth that went to Haiti. There was a spider/mosquito with a deadly illness in the room. No one could find it. I was trying to protect the kids, then I felt something bite me. I threw off my covers and it was sucking my blood. I ripped it off and chased it across the room but it got away. I stood in the room wondering if I got the disease. Then I woke up. I thought, "huh," wrote the dream in my dream journal and went to the gym.

Several hours later I came home and walked to the refrigerator, my legs almost gave out, as I reached to get a glass of water I felt like a 90 year old woman. Thinking I had just worked out too hard I crawled to my room, yes, I crawled. I fell face down on the bed and woke up several hours later, still in my work out clothes, moaning, sweating and in serious pain and with another dream...

This time I was in a dark room, had a serious illness and was in a lot of pain. Voices were around me telling me, "The Lord doesn't heal, obviously, look at you. If he loved you he would heal you. Wouldn't he? God hates you. Everything you've ever seen about the Lord's goodness you've made up." It went on until I was rocking back and forth crying. My friend, Ashlea, walked up to me in the dream and sat down in front of me. She said, "Brianna, I believe the Lord wants to heal you. His heart for you is love and he doesn't desire you to be in this place. Can I pray for you?" I said, "yes." She hugged me, prayed for me and...I woke up.

As I wrote that dream down I saw the dream I wrote down that morning. I thought, "What? Do I have dengue or malaria?" Then the, "rational," side of me kicked in and said, "What are the chances?" (the rational side of me is what usually makes me look like an idiot after the Lord speaks) I continued with my day but got worse. I was in a daze. My eyes hurt too much to open and my body felt like it was breaking. I crawled in bed early that night and the thoughts came.... "The Lord doesn't love you, has no intention to and never will heal, your alone...etc." and I started crying. I've never felt so hopeless. Then, hopefully you know by now what happened next.... my friend Ashlea called me....and you already know what she's going to say.... I did.

She said, "Brianna, I believe the Lord wants to heal you. He loves you very much. Can I pray for you?" I said, "yes." She prayed for me. And I cried again, this time for a totally different reason.

Not only did the Lord warn me that I was going to get sick and the type of illness but he warned me a second time about the spiritual attack I'd be facing that night. Whose God does that for them? Only mine, Jesus.

The next morning I had to share about all the miracles the Lord did in Haiti at church. I walked up to the mic. still feeling horrible and testified to the Lord's desire/ability to heal, I ended with the story I'm posting now and what the Lord taught me."

"Our truth is not determined by our experience, but by the Bible. We press into the truth of the Bible until it becomes our reality and until that point...we continue to press in. If our past experiences determine our future experiences we will never see our new reality."

I never got to follow up with the church about what happened after that morning. If you go to Willow Street Mennonite you can pass this on. Several days later I got better. I never bleed out off my mouth and immidiantely after I shared Sunday morning I started to feel better. I still went to the doctor anyway and had my blood tested. The results came back several days later and they couldn't believe it, I had dengue fever. haha.Who knew?

A few months later the National Department of Health called my house to see if I was dead. They had seen my dengue fever lab test and were taking a death toll for dengue in the states. My mom answered the phone, and I'm grateful she was able to say I'm alive.




 







 

February 12

I have to write today. This is one of my favorite day's of the year. Today is Abraham Lincolns birthday. Yes, for those of you who don't know already, I'm a little bit of the nerd, minus the computer smarts, math smarts, and pocket protectors ...when it comes to words, and those who use them well, I am hopeless enthralled. That is why today is my favorite day.

My intern instructor told us several years ago, on Lincolns birthday, that Abe Lincoln had one major fear that drove his life. He was afraid that he'd miss his calling, that his opportunity to change the world would pass without him seizing it and he would never make the most of his life. He was, above all, afraid of living a worthless life. I remember sitting stunned in my chair.

That day Abe became my hero, not because we share the exact same fear, but because he utilized his fear instead of being paralyzed by it. 

Now I read his quotes, read his books, whenever I can get a hold of them. I even read a collection of letters to his wife, intriguing though I'm not striving to get hitched to someone debatabely insane. I've heard Abe might have been a little mentally unstable himself. My abnormal psych teacher just told us, "If you're wondering why your always dating crazy people, there may be a reason." But then the contradiction that comes to my mind is that an extraordinary person couldn't be extraordinary, if they were ordinary. Ah, alas, it matters little and even less since I'm trying to think constructively past midnight and I've crossed into another day. Oh no, it's February 13th... I'll leave with these quotes from Lincoln himself:

"Always bear in mind that your own resolution to succeed is more important than anyone thing."

"And in the end, its not the years in your life that count, its the life in your years." 

"Whenever I hear anyone arguing for slavery, I feel a strong impulse to see it tried on him personally."

You cannot escape the responsibility of tomorrow by evading it today.

Die when I may, I want it said by those who knew me best, that I always plucked a thistle and planted a flower where I thought a flower would grow." 

Nothing will divert me from my purpose. purpose.
— Abraham Lincoln

To my muse...

This is the first post of many on blogger.com. I felt like the first article I write should be my reason. It's my greatest hope that this blog will be the haven of my deepest thoughts and public stage for creative processing.
That these articles with be a place of rest for my words and inspiration for anyone who reads them. This is my goal....right about now you should be saying to yourself, "Wow, this girls full of it if she's claiming this as her public stage to inspire me. The audacity. Only a published, award winning writer has that kind of confidence...and even then." But I am. I'm claiming every bit of the audacity above and this is how...  

Have you ever heard someone say, "He/she's a creative genius." This title is given to anyone that produces an outstanding original work, of any kind. If I compose a new song, write a new book, choreograph a new dance, I am a creative genius. And if I fail...I'm a moron. But creativity hasn't always been viewed in these terms of ownership.

Back in the day, medieval day, people credited Muses. Muses where the source of creative genius and when they visited a person, that person became the outlet of the Muses work. The Muse was the divine inspiration. If the work of a person sucked, they had a bad muse. If not, the muse was to be thanked. Our, "creative geniuses, " of today were only credited with sensitivity to hear the muse and follow the muse to the completion of the muses intention for a certain work. That was all. No pressure because it wasn't really them anyway.

My friend sent me a link a few months ago to a great podcast by Elizabeth Gilbert. I would attach it to this article but I don't know how. I just got a blog today, baby steps. Ms. Gilbert wrote the book, "Eat, Pray, Love," which I haven't read and have no intention of reading. In the podcast she talked about Muses and the pressure, if our culture could accept it, divine inspiration could take off the shoulders of our, "creative geniuses." She did not say this but implied it would also make room for even greater works, because everyone knows creativity doesn't thrive under pressure.

Discovering my muse has been my journey for over a year now. In my attempts at writing and I've had many, I've run into all kinds of set-backs, workaholism, laziness, burn out, writers block etc. All seem to stem from a common issue. Me. I can not sustain the pressure of producing and maintains great works. I've come to believe I was not meant to.

I am fortunate to already believe in the divine and the source of divinity for all inspiration. I have felt creative inspiration come over me, if only for brief moments when I look on a page and see that I could have never come up with the things I've written. This is how I know the idea of a muse is real. But I have only one muse and he has been so good to me. He has taken me over a year of self-discovery, mainly discovering what I am not, and showing me what I can be because of him. He is my creative genius and this is why I dedicate this blog to him, with all of my inspired gratitude. I am thankful for whatever good thing may come out of all my writings and I know it is possible that very great things may come. Now writing has become the skill of listening. I can finally enjoy my work and boast in what I can't accomplish on my own and appreciate without jealously everything my muse is doing through anyone listening to him. Not only has he become the way I work, he is the reason I work. It is a great feeling. I mean it is a really really great feeling and I am only at the beginning of appreciation.

I know there are many, "gifted" people reading this blog. Don't ever give up doing what the muse has sent you to do. You CAN'T do it, so stop worrying :) He can. I will be one of the many waiting to see what he does through you. I will be one of the few knowing the source of your genius. Just remember, the greatness of the finished work is meant to be a reflection of how you got there. And I think that's all I have to say about that for today...

With Gratitude,

Brianna