Ministry or a business?

I saw a quote that read “If someone is no longer valuable to you because they don’t attend your church or ministry events, you aren’t a ministry. You are a business.” That was pretty significant for me to read. I touched on this in a previous blog that we really found out how much we meant to our “church family” after we left the church… and this wasn’t a rare occasion. This happened at three churches that we left. We left and immediately our friendships seized to exist. Where we had been such a huge part of their lives before, once we left the church, we were forgotten about. I remember a friend saying to me once that when you leave a church it’s out of sight, out of mind for certain people… and I get that to a certain point. You’re not there any longer when the doors are opened so it’s easy for people to forget about you… and I agree with that if we’re talking about acquaintances that you see on a Sunday morning or a mid week service… but when you’re talking about the ones who called you their family… called you their best friends… when they said they couldn’t “do ministry” without you being there, and suddenly they stop talking to you because you’re no longer bringing in money for them… when you’re no longer serving in their church, providing a service to them, and they drop you like a sack of potatoes, that’s gross. Like the quote says, you aren’t a ministry, you’re a business. I’ve seen it on more than one occasion. I wish I hadn’t, but the fact is, we did see it happen. Three times to be exact… and so we’re jaded. We have a hard time getting close to a church again because we don’t want to get close to people just to have them let us down once again. 

There’s one church that we’ve thought about going to. The Pastor is a genuinely nice guy. The church has a lot of the values that we have. We visited the church once. It was a nice time. Since then, I’ve kept in touch with the Pastor of the church. He’s been to my house to hang out with us. The church does a lot of outreach, which I think it super important. They have a lot of things available every night of the week. Men’s group. Teen Ministry. Bible study. Prayer. Women’s group. The fact is, the Word that’s taught every Sunday (we’ve watched a few of his messages online too) is good, solid word… but the church is a half hour away from us. Being a one income family, we don’t have a lot of extra money… and the extra we do have, we try to put towards savings so we can pay our taxes every year. The truth is, we can’t really afford to go to church that far away. Would we love to have the extra cash and go when the weather is nice and sicknesses in the area have gone away? Yeah, we probably would. It would be good for the kids to have other kids to play with… but it’s just too hard to do at the moment… and to be honest, I’m not sure we will ever get to the place where we are ready to go back to a church full time. 

The way my brain works with being a germaphobe is rough. Late Fall until Spring is the worst for me. I get so anxious and nervous about the sicknesses that go around most years. The fact is, I worry about germs. I worry about getting sick. I worry about my family getting sick. I have a bunch of health issues. Desiree has a couple health concerns. We have a newborn baby. Our Charlie Girl (age 9) was so sick with RSV when she was one that it legit plays a part on this complex PTSD that they tell me I have. It’s ruined me. I can’t even do much in the winter time because I worry so much about us getting sick. It’s horrible. I pray I’ll get better about it in the near future… maybe a couple/few years once Josephine is old enough that her immune system isn’t so fragile. Then again, who knows how I’ll feel. The fact is, there’s certain germs/viruses that can get you even in the warmer months… there’s just a much smaller chance for it to happen. I don’t mind going in stores when the weather is nice. I can go without a mask on and feel good… but in the late fall/winter months, forget about it. I just went indoor golfing with my Pops, brother and Uncle. The entire time I was there, I was on edge. I was listening to every single person there, listening for them to cough, or hack and snot. It was terrible. I had a lot of fun playing golf and would totally do it again, but it’s a terrible feeling when you’re so obsessed with germs.

Wow, I really went off the track and into the rabbit hole there. Obviously this was written for a reason. In closing, protect your heart. You only have one of them and the last thing you need to happen is for people to hurt yours. Also, if you struggle with germs and sicknesses and anxiety, you are not alone. You’ve got others who are on your side. You’ve got support. Reach out if you need to talk. Never forget, What You Do Matters.  

Silence is deafening

Heard that statement last night… And it hit deep. Wow!

I have battled with insomnia for a while now. It’s something that I believe stems from the medications I am on for depression, anxiety and PTSD. There are nights when my brain just won’t shut off. You’ll see that I write a lot about my struggles with mental health. Let me make it clear that I’m not writing about it to look for sympathy. I write about it because I believe mental health is something that needs to be talked about more. Especially with men. I’m not belittling how women feel with mental health because mental health issues are mental health issues… but there’s this stigma about men and mental health and that sucks. So I write because I’m a huge advocate for mental health.

For me, my mental health is something that sadly has kind of defined me. I know, I know, I shouldn’t let something like mental health define me, but the fact is, it’s been 8yrs of battling with this… and in those 8yrs there have been some really rough times. Times that I’m not proud of and other times where I’m very proud of myself. The fact is, anytime you can get through a panic attack, medicated or not, is a moment that you should be proud of. There have been a lot of times that I’ve felt like I’m going to lose it because fear and anxiety come flooding like a tidal wave… but I’ve learned pretty well how to get through those moments. Still, there are times when I need to medicate in order to get through it… and that’s okay. If you’re someone who needs to medicate to get through your day, that’s okay.

Some days it’s hard to get out of bed… but it’s important to get up. Even if it’s just to pee, get up. Maybe after you pee you’ll go back to your bed… and if that’s what you need for that day, then that’s okay. Maybe tomorrow you’ll get up and pee and brush your teeth. The fact is, you’re allowed to have rough days. It’s making sure that you don’t stay in those rough spots that’s important. Have rough days, but make a plan how you’re going to get through them. Make a plan as to how you’re going to get up and do a little more than you did the day before. Maybe it’s going to take you a week of two to get to that place… maybe that’s what you need… and if that’s you, then I say good for you. It’s okay.

A couple of years ago I ended up at a place called St. Mary’s. I checked myself into a “psych ward” because I was in a bad place. When I say I checked myself in, what I should say is that my wife made me check myself in. I was ready to end my life. Like I said, I was in a bad place. My meds were all messed up and I became a version of myself that I don’t even really remember. I hear a lot of stories from my wife about how I was during those times, but there’s so much that she tells me that I’m shocked to hear. Moments that I just straight up don’t remember. Things I said that hurt my wife. Things I did that hurt my wife. Things that I have apologized for because it was definitely needed.

While at St. Mary’s, I remembered something that a Pastor friend had told me when he went through a similar experience. He said he made sure that every day he got up and made his bed. Even if that was all he did, he wanted to have some sort of control over his situation. He felt like he didn’t have control of anything else in that moment, but he did have control over whether or not his bed was made… and so every day, while I was in St. Mary’s, I made sure I got up and made my bed. I also made sure I journaled every single day. Writing is therapy for me. It’s something I am passionate about. It’s something that brings me joy. It’s something that brings me peace. I’m an open book for the most part and don’t mind sharing experiences like the one I had a few years ago.

You see, I was lucky with my experience at St. Mary’s. I went in, they put me on Valium for a few days and started me on new meds. Quickly I began feeling like myself again. In fact, I felt better than I had felt in a long time. I left the hospital after being there for 4 days, feeling like a new man. I honestly thought that great feeling would last. I was wrong. After a while, my meds stopped working like they were supposed to. I ended up getting put on something else. Then they upped my dose. Then they added another new med on top of the others I was taking. Once again I felt like I was a Guinea pig, taking all different meds to try to find something that worked. I started feeling depressed again. I started feeling anxiety rising up inside of me. What would happen if my meds made me go all wacky again?

I’m thankful that we found the right dose to keep me level headed… but with that dosage comes side effects… and so I went from being happy I found the right dosage to being miserable over the side effects. I remember one day I was really struggling with the side effects. The truth is, I gained 65lbs in 3yrs of being on these meds. Being overweight brings on its own feelings of depression. And so I was miserable one day… and my wife spoke up and said “babe, I’d rather have you with these side effects than have you the way you were without any meds at all.” That was exactly what I needed to hear. I needed that reassurance that it was okay that my life wasn’t the same because of the medications. My wife gave me that reassurance and everything changed for me that day… or so I thought.

I would go on to feel pretty good… and then pretty bad… I’d have good days and I’d have bad ones. I’d have days where I felt like I conquered the world and days where I felt like the world kicked my face in. For me, being overweight is a huge trigger. I think about my oldest daughter, Kalle, who always says “we don’t body shame in this family.” I love her for saying that. It means more than she’ll probably ever know… but at the same time, I’ve never felt worse about my appearance. The meds made me gain so much weight so fast. I feel disgusting in clothes. I feel disgusted when I have to oder a shirt and it’s a 2x. I miss my old clothes. I miss feeling happy with my weight… and so I battle with that side of depression. It’s something that I struggle with terribly, and I’m sure there are so many others who struggle with the same thing. The meds are supposed to make you feel better. They’re supposed to help you stop having panic attacks and help with your anxiety, but at the same time they cause depression because you’re so overweight. It’s a brutal battle.

And so I lay awake at night. Thinking about it all. Not being able to get my brain to shut off. I lay there worrying about everything and anything. I just can’t shut it off. So my wife is sleeping next to me. Our kids are all sleeping… and there I am, wide awake with all my thoughts. So this Friday, I am going to the dispensary to buy marijuana once again. Last year before Desi got pregnant with our daughter, I was smoking almost every night and it would help me sleep. I stopped when she was pregnant because I didn’t want her to wake me up in the middle of the night because something was wrong with the baby and me not be able to drive her to the hospital. Now, things are getting back to normal, well, our new normal with having a colicky baby… and I feel like it’s time for me to start smoking again. I’m a big fan of smoking because it’s better than taking Xanax or something like that… and smoking marijuana is now legal so there’s no risk of getting in trouble like there used to be. (because ya know, that’s something to worry about 😉 )

So wrapping this up, it’s important to know that it’s okay to not be okay. It’s okay to need to reach out for help. If you’re someone who is struggling, please don’t suffer in silence. Reach out to someone. Reach out to me if you need to. It’s never okay to go through this alone. You’re not alone. You’re loved. You’re appreciated. You’re special. Remember, What You Do Matters.

Boundaries…

The definition of the word “boundaries” is: a line that marks the limits of an area; a dividing line. A boundary is a limit you can set on what you will accept of another person’s words or actions.

Why is it so hard for us to have boundaries? Why is it so hard for us to set boundaries for other people in our lives? The truth is, we’re all allowed to have boundaries. If you don’t want to do something, you have the right to not do it. If you choose to not go to a party or family get together, you have that right to not go. 

How many times do we cross the line when we want something from someone. Sadly, and I know we don’t mean it, we don’t respect someone else’s boundaries because of our own selfish reasons. We want to go do something with that person so we add a little bit of an unintentional guilt trip to the words we speak to them. If we’re being honest with ourselves, we’ve all done it… and it’s not done with ill-intent. We just love the person and really want to spend time with them.

But we need to learn to respect the other person’s decision to say no. They have their own boundaries as well and we should never infringe on them. We should learn to respect their boundaries, regardless if we’re getting our way or not. They have the right to say no. They have the right to say “not right now”… they have those rights because they’re allowed to have boundaries.

Until next time, 

What You Do Matters.

Dear Forgiveness…

Have you ever had someone who wronged you? Someone who “did you dirty?” Someone who straight up hurt you to your core? Maybe you’ve heard that you need to forgive them. Maybe you’re someone that refuses to forgive someone who has done you wrong… well let’s talk about it for a moment… I try very hard to be transparent with what I write. I won’t gossip about someone, I won’t bash them, but I will tell my story. After all, it’s my story to tell. Here’s some more of my story.

Growing up, I didn’t have my biological father in my life. He left my mom and me when I was 3 months old. He left us with pretty much nothing. I don’t remember seeing my bio-dad until I was probably 4 or 5. I remember every once in a while going for an overnight with him… but the memories I have are few and far between because I wasn’t with him very often. He would come around for a couple months and then disappear again. It became the new normal… until he stopped coming around completely. I remember him coming back to see me one weekend and I told him I didn’t want to see him. That was the last time I’d ever go for an overnight with my bio-dad.

As I grew up, I was blessed with an incredible step-dad (who I call Pops) who, in my opinion, was my Dad. I couldn’t have asked for anyone better… but there was still this feeling of rejection that filled me. My Aunt and Uncle (on my Mother’s side) lived next door to my bio-dad’s parents. I spent a lot of time with my cousins, playing in the yard… my “family” on my bio-dad’s side could literally see me playing from their kitchen window, but they ignored me. They never came out to see me. My bio-dad would be there, and he’s stay inside. As a young child, I learned what hate was… I learned what rejection was from one of the people who should never make you feel rejected… and for that, I hated him.

I remember being in my early 20’s and I was working on a job site. My boss as I stopped to one of the gas stations we have (Stewarts) to grab a coffee. I walked in there and saw my biological father sitting at one of the tables. He looked me directly in my eyes and didn’t say a single thing. I was immediately filled with rage. I quickly paid for my coffee and left Stewarts and got in the work truck. My boss came out and asked me if I was alright. I told him we needed to leave before I got out and punched my bio-dad in the face. All those feelings of rejection came roaring back. How could he see me, face to face, and completely ignore me?

In my early mid 20’s, I started to feel like maybe I should visit my biological Grandmother. She had nothing to do with me growing up, but I knew she was elderly and I started to worry about how I’d feel if she passed away and I never made the attempt to get to know her. I went to her house one night with the girl I was dating at the time. When I got there, I found out that my bio-dad was living there with her. She explained that she knew he would like to see me and asked me to come back sometime to see him as well. So I did… and for a very short time, we spent a little time together… until someone broke into his camp. Immediately he accused me of being the one that broke into the camp. Those feelings of rage filled me once again. I walked away from my bio-dad and felt I was fine never seeing the man again.

Fast forward many years and I’m now in my late 30’s. Again I start to question how I’d feel if my bio-dad died and I never saw him again… and so I reached out. Being older and wiser, I decided to give this man a real chance. We started going and getting coffee once a week. We would go to McDonald’s and just talk for a couple of hours. I could feel my walls coming down… but deep down inside, I was still holding feelings of resentment toward him… but I kept getting together with him once a week… and then it went from once a week to seeing him a little more. I let my wife and kids meet him. We started getting together with him at his house, the house his parents had owned. I could feel a shift inside myself.

I remember going to visit my bio-dad at his house one day. It was just the two of us. There were some things I really wanted to say to him. So as we sat there, I explained that I forgave him. I needed him to know that he was truly forgiven. He sat there and shed tears as I shared my heart with him. He would try to explain his side of things, but that’s not what I needed. I let him share his side of things, but the important thing for me was for him to know he was forgiven. That day, something inside me changed. I realized that the man who taught me how to hate, also taught me how to truly forgive. Let me say that again… the man who taught me how to hate, also taught me how to truly forgive. A short time later, my bio-dad passed away. I thank God all the time for giving me that time with him.

So why do I tell you all of this? Well, I’m in a situation. There’s someone else in my life who has hurt me deeply. Someone who I trusted. Someone who believed in. Someone who was a spiritual leader to me. Someone who really hurt us… and I’m torn as to what to do. I feel as though I have forgiven him. I do… but at the same time, when I think about him and about ever having anything to do with him again, I get this “ugh” feeling inside. When we walked away from him many months ago, I felt like the friendship we had was over for good. That’s how badly he hurt me. On New Year’s Eve, we received a text message from him. In the message, he explained how he was sorry for the way things had turned out and he loved us. I struggled that night with what to do. After talking with my wife and my oldest daughter, I decided it was best to respond to him.

And so I did… and that was it. My reply to him was short, but kind. He never responded back, and that was okay with me… so this month has gone on and if I’m being honest, I haven’t thought about him much until the other day… and when I thought about him, I got that “ugh” feeling inside again… but I let it go. Today was different though… today my wife came inside and handed me a card. It was from this friend. He sent a card this time. It said a lot of the same things that his text message said on New Year’s Eve, but it felt different. Maybe because it’s handwritten. I don’t know how to explain it.

So now I’m at a crossroads… I believe I’ve forgiven him. I do. But have I really forgiven him if I don’t want anything to do with him? I mean, the saying is “you can forgive but don’t have to forget”… But this is someone who was like a brother to me. I think my issue is that this last time isn’t the only time he has screwed me over. Years ago he screwed me over pretty badly. So now, I think I’m concerned that if I forget what he’s done and try to move forward as his friend that he will do something again to betray my trust. Then again, do I even want to be his friend anymore? Do I actually want to move forward with him as my friend? I don’t know. Part of me says yes. Part of me says no. I’m conflicted. I have a heart for people. I want to see the best in people. It’s probably a good reason why I’ve been hurt by so many people in my day. If he’s genuinely sorry and wanting to fix our friendship, is it wrong of me to say no? Ugh, I just don’t know.

Life can be tough at times. While I’m not sure how I feel about attending a church any longer, I still believe in loving people like Jesus did. Agape love. Can you show that love and not have someone in your life who wants to be in your life? All hard questions to answer, but ultimately, you (I) need to do what’s best for our lives. I feel like it’s okay to not be friends with someone who has shown themselves to be toxic in your life. But is it really okay? Are they really toxic or do you view them that way because of the hurt they caused you. Sometimes people can hurt you without being toxic, right?

After reading this again, I realize just how hard this topic is for me. At the end of the day, life’s too short to be pissed off all the time. Life’s too short to live with regrets. Life’s too short. I don’t want to live with regrets and I definitely don’t want to be pissed off all the time. While I’m not sure if I’ll let him be a part of my life again, I can say with certainty that I have forgiven him and that’s good enough for me right now while I figure out the next step.

Until next time,

What You Do Matters.

The status of Tabor Town…

Let me start out by saying it’s been a wild and crazy ride for us here at Tabor Town. As you may have noticed, our new Facebook page is simply called Tabor Town. It’s no longer called Tabor Town Ministries, Homestead and More. There’s a reason for this, and some of you may not like it, but it’s the truth… We aren’t a ministry any longer and we stopped having out homestead this past summer. Let me explain.

Let’s talk about the ministry side of things first. A couple of years ago, when we were attending a church, we had a couple that we were friends with. We were starting to minister to them, trying to help save their marriage. We explained to the Pastor that this is what we were doing and he straight out told us that we couldn’t minister to them, that the church had it’s own counselor and they should be the ones ministering to the couple. Looking back on it, we should have just invited the family into our home and ministered to them… but we were looked at as leadership in the church and the last thing we wanted to do was ruffle any feathers. If our Pastor was telling us we shouldn’t do it, we felt as though there was a reason for it, so we “obeyed” his wishes. The couple that we were friends with ended up getting divorced. Desiree and I were crushed… but we also felt like someone sucked the wind out of our sails. Here we had been ministering to people, lots of people, for years and suddenly we’re told we shouldn’t be doing it any longer. Something changed inside of us in that moment. It’s hard to explain but it’s almost like our Pastor crushed our spirits. We haven’t ministered to anyone else since then.

Do we miss it? Yes and no. I miss going to the little coffee shop (Second Wind) or Dunkin’ Donuts and having coffee with people. I miss sitting with them and listening to them as they share the pain they’re feeling. I miss giving them positive advice, advice that I truly believe helped them. I enjoyed sharing my life experiences with them, in hopes that it would help them. I enjoyed giving them bible verses that would help encourage them… but I’ll be honest, since Covid hit, I don’t get involved with people much at all in the late fall/winter time. I’m a germaphobe. I have complex PTSD that stems from my daughter getting so sick with RSV when she was one years old that we could have lost her. Winter time is a horrible time for me. I basically become a hermit. I stay in my house and very rarely leave. We do grocery pickup so we don’t need to go in the stores. I hate being around people in the winter time because there are so many germs out there that can make us really sick.

I know it probably sounds crazy to all of you. Hey, it sounds crazy to me as well. I hate that I feel this way. We now have a newborn. Her name is Josephine Leslie Anne Tabor. With all the sicknesses out there, especially RSV this year, we very rarely take her out of the house. Too many people sick, and we’re not willing to take the chance of her getting really sick and needing to be taken by ambulance to Albany Med like our Charlie Girl did. Not only that, but I have health issues that I need to be careful of as well. I have asthma. I’m overweight (thanks anxiety and depression meds)… I have Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy, so that’s gotta be taken into consideration. So do I miss getting together with people and ministering to them? Yeah, in ways I do, but in ways I don’t miss it at all. I’m not 100% sure how Desiree feels about it, she might miss it more than I do. I know she isn’t as worried about germs and everything as I am. I really wish I wasn’t like this. It drives me crazy.

As for the homestead side of things… We had so many chickens at one point (close to 50 I believe) and ducks and rabbits and goats. Our garden was huge. Our homestead was really thriving… and then I had the lymphoma scare. Things started to slow down at that point. We got rid of the rabbits (except for one that the kids have as a pet). The ducks were killed by an owl. Six ducks were taken from the homestead in 3 days. That owl was vicious. Our chickens started getting eaten by a fox that I couldn’t get rid of. Trust me, I tried to shoot that thing with no luck. We lost a couple of goats (we still have no idea how that happened.)… but we kept carrying on with the homestead… even though it was smaller. Then Covid hit. Desiree’s in home daycare ended up closing up. There wasn’t enough information out there about Covid. Everything you heard was different depending on who you asked. What we did know was that people were dying and that was enough for us to close the doors to the in home daycare. It was a terrible decision to make. It was heart breaking.

With the daycare closed, we needed another source of income. I homeschool the kids, so Desiree decided she would go back to working outside of the home. That’s when our homestead really began to dwindle. Our garden became a jungle. It’s still a jungle right now as I write this. We lost the rest of our chickens. We were left with a single goat. Then Desiree got pregnant with our third child (together, we also have my oldest daughter from a previous relationship) and everything really changed. We were down to one goat. We knew it was time to close down the homestead for good. Desiree took a good job with the county… but it meant more hours she’d be gone from the house. And so we closed down the homestead. This past summer we had the smallest garden we’ve ever had. This year coming up we have no idea what we’ll have here. Maybe a small garden. Maybe nothing. They’re a lot of work, and right now I don’t have time for it. I’m a stay at home dad with a 9yr old, a 5 (almost 6)yr old, and a newborn colicky baby. I homeschool the kids while trying to balance a newborns needs. It’s a lot of work. Too much work for me to do while having an active homestead. It makes me terribly sad that we don’t have things going like we once did… but I don’t know how we’d do it again. Not for a few years until Joey is older (that’s what we call Josephine)… once she got a little older, I could have her outside with me a little more. I guess we’ll see once we get there. The fact is, I miss it. Hopefully we have things set up enough where we’re able to do it again in the future.

So that’s what’s going on with Tabor Town. I’m sorry if it’s not what you wanted to read. I wish it were happier news, but it’s not. This is where we’re at. As things change, we will keep you posted. Until then,

What You Do Matters.

I used to be so much different, I used to have so much faith…

The title of this are song lyrics. With that said, I feel like I can really relate to them. I use this site to share my feelings. It’s a form of therapy. So hopefully I’m not crucified for posting my thoughts and feelings… but the song lyrics do have a special meaning to me. If you know me, you know my story. If you don’t, I’ll explain. Grab a coffee, sit back and relax. I’m about to share the story of Timmy Tabor.

Growing up, I had a good life, but with a twist. I had a biological father and the Tabor side of my family that wanted nothing to do with me. I was blessed with an incredible step-dad (who I call Pops) who did everything to provide for his family. A man that truly looked at me like his son. With that said, it never changed the fact that there was a huge part of me that felt rejected. How would I not feel that way? I mean, think about it, my biological father took off when I was a couple months old and left my mother and me with nothing. But this talk of my father is a topic for another time. Right now I want to talk about growing up in the church.

My parents believed in God. We went to a few churches on and off when I was little. When I was 14yrs old I was asked to go to a youth group with a friend of mine. I said yes and went. I fell in love with the group. There were teenagers there that welcomed me with open arms. I felt accepted. I was hooked. While there, I found my first love. A fun church and a girl to love.. how much better could it get? Within a year, my mother and little brother were coming to church. A few months later, my Pops started coming to church with us as well. It was great, my entire family going to a charismatic, non-denominational, spirit filled church. Then my late teens hit. My first love and I split after being together for 4 years. I found a new girl who didn’t go to church. She was the first girl I ever slept with. She got pregnant. She started coming to church with me. I wasn’t viewed the same way in the church after that. They accepted me, but there were people within the church that had serious issues with me. I could feel the negative energy coming from them all. I eventually left the church because I couldn’t take it any longer. I spent years away from that church. In that time, all the people who “loved” me stopped reaching out. Rejection once again. So much for leaving the 99 to find the 1.

I started to resent the church. I didn’t hate God, but I was starting to hate the church. If they loved me so much, how could they turn their backs on me the way they did? I couldn’t figure it out. Why wouldn’t they reach out? My youth Pastor would reach out sporadically but even that would be less and less as time went on. I’ll give him credit though, if I ever needed him, I could call him no matter the time of night, and boy did I take advantage of that benefit. After a couple of years being with my daughters mother, we split up. It was an incredibly hard split. It was nasty. It ended up in family court. I went down a very dark path. I began partying my face off. I moved into a party house with a few friends. We would party literally every night. I was sleeping around with anyone that would help me feel good, even for a night. I surrounded myself with people that I thought were my true friends. I felt accepted again… and so my life was all about being THE life of the party.

After a couple of years of this, I stepped away from the party scene and surprisingly all of those “friends” disappeared. Once again I felt rejected. All the nights I spent with these people making memories. People telling me they loved me like a brother. The girls that told me they loved me. All of them, gone. When I say they were all gone, I mean, gone. Not a single one stayed in contact with me after I stepped away from the party scene.

Eventually I moved back in with my parents and started going back to church. I started playing drums for the church again. I got involved with teen ministry… and then my friend, the bassist of the worship team asked me to get an apartment with him. It seemed like a great idea. I would have a christian roommate. We could enjoy the single life and be around a positive influence. Very quickly, we both started drinking. Drinking turned into partying. The same trap that I was into before turned into the same trap I had fallen back into. Once again I was THE life of the party… I knew it was wrong, but I was accepted. People loved me again… and so I partied my face off again… for close to a year… and then my roommate decided he couldn’t do it anymore. He decided he needed to rededicate his life to God and to the church. Without a warning, he moved out one day when I was at my parents house spending time with my daughter. I came home to an empty house. He was just gone. Once again I felt rejected. This time it was by one of my best friends. Someone who was closer than a brother. I was crushed, but there was a silver lining.

I met a girl. She was much younger than me, but had an old soul… and so we got together. I moved out of the apartment and moved back in with my parents. I focused on being a better father. I focused on being a better human being. Things got serious between this girl and me… and so after a while we got an apartment together. We started going to church together. We ended up getting married. My life was good again. Better than it had ever been. Six months, six days later and my wife left me for another guy. A guy she worked with. I was broken. The night she left, I had a few friends come get me and we went to the bar. There I met a wonderful older woman who worked at the bar. Little did I know she would be the mom of my future best friend.

I spent years, and I mean years partying my life away. I got into another serious relationship. It was toxic… but also beautiful in ways. I was a great father at this point. My daughter was my world… but when I didn’t have her I’d work and then drink. Sometimes at the same time. Then July 29th, 2009 my life changed when I injured my back on a job site. It was the second time I had injured my back. I had been very close to my co-workers, or so I thought. When I went out with a back injury, I didn’t hear a peep from a single one of them. Rejection.

After hurting my back I went back to college. I was determined to graduate with my associates. My doctor at the time told me if I didn’t find a new career I’d be in a wheel chair by the time I was 40. So I left the construction world and went into being a full time college student at Fulton Montgomery Community College. Here, I’d have some of the greatest times of my life. Here I’d find my wife. The relationship I was in didn’t work out. Meanwhile, I met Desiree, my wife. We were friends for many months before we ever went on a date. Once I got to know her and took her on a date, I knew she was something special… and so we got married… and bought a home… and had babies… and made an incredible life together.

Desi wanted to go to church. I kept telling her that one day we’d go. But the truth is, I didn’t have any desire to go to church. I had felt burned out by the church in the past. Did I really want to go back to a church and have them all tell me they loved me once again? I had some serious trust issues… but I felt like if my wife really wanted to go, I should be a supportive husband and go with her. And so we went. We went to the church I grew up in… and like when I was a child, I was welcomed with open arms. I felt accepted again. I dove in and got really involved in the church. I started playing drums again for their worship team. I started preaching at the church. Eventually Desi and I took over the teen ministry. We really felt like things were perfect there… until they weren’t.

Now I won’t get into details because I don’t believe in gossip, but after some hurtful things were said and done by a couple of people in the church, we decided it was time for us to step away. Once again, we were gone from a church and there was only one person who reached out, my old youth Pastor who had become one of my very close friends (more like a brother)… other than that, we heard nothing. No phone calls. No text messages. Nothing. That rejection that I felt from the church so many years ago came rushing back. And so once again we were without a church. No hatred toward anyone, just extreme disappointment.

We spent a little time away from church. Meanwhile, my old roommate, (the old bass player from church), had come back from California and took over a thriving church in the area. His wife had left him and he was hurting. We’d get together once or twice a week and have coffee and talk. I’d minister to him, he’d minister to me. He asked me to come to his church. He said he needed us there as support while he went through this hard time of life. It took a little bit, but we agreed. So once again we had a church. We spent three years there. I worked for the church doing all their social media postings. We felt like we had a home. It felt great. Once again I felt accepted. Everything was great… until it wasn’t. Once again, I won’t get into details because I’m not one for gossip… but things fell apart at the seams and after a meeting with my Pastor (old roommate), Desiree and I decided it was time for us to leave… and once again we barely heard from anyone. All the people that hugged us every single Sunday and told us how much they loved us… gone. So much for leaving the 99 to find the 1.

And so I mean what I said… I used to be so much different, I used to have so much faith. My faith in God is still very much there… but the faith I had in churches and in church people has changed. Will we ever find another church? Who knows. Maybe… maybe not… but I know it’ll be really hard for me to tell people we love them again. It’ll be hard to hear people tell me they love me again… because I’ll be questioning it every step of the way. I love you gets tossed around so often, and I love that… but if you love someone, show it… show it when they’re there, show it when they’re not there. If someone leaves your church, do better. Reach out to them. Show them the love of Christ like you’ve been taught. That’s what they need. They need to be loved on… they need to feel truly loved by people. If you’re going to love people to life, then do exactly that… love them to life, especially when they’re hurting and lost. Don’t just love them enough to get them into your church and giving you their money. Show them you love them no matter what… especially if they leave. That’s when you should be loving them the most.

So like I said… I don’t know if we will ever get involved in a church again. There’s a chance we would. There’s a nice church Pastored by a great guy, but it’s like 25 minutes away and honestly, I don’t know if I want to make the drive every Sunday. The fact is, I need a heart change if I’m going to put forth any effort into a church. I know it would be good for my kids to go to church. They love Jesus, and I love that. So I know it’s important for them, but I just don’t know if I can do it again. I’d like to say I will, but I’m just not sure… and that’s okay.

Until next time,

What You Do Matters.

July 29th, 2015… Oh how you changed my life forever…

I found an old WordPress account that I had. There was only one post. It was about how on July 29th, 2015 my life changed forever. It’s crazy to think that my life still isn’t the same after this. The amount of health issues that have come up since this post… wow… still, even with all the health stuff (mental and physical) I feel blessed. I have the amazing support of my wife and the amazing support of my four kids (and my son in law)… I have added that post about 2015 if you’d like to read it. Don’t take a year for granted. You never know how different your life can look from one year to the next. What you do matters.

July 29, 2015… I sat at my place of employment, The Resource Center for Independent Living. I was in the middle of a “Launch” meeting. There was a new lady that had started working and she needed help. I was asked to sit in on the meeting and help where needed. As we went through the tedious amount of paperwork, I couldn’t help but think about how close to the end of the day it was. Suddenly, as I was sitting there, I started to get this unbearable stabbing pain in the left side of my head. The stabbing pain was right in the area of my temple. The sharp, stabbing pain came out of no where and was so severe that it actually caused me to lose my train of thought. I pulled it together and finished up the meeting. As soon as it was done, I went into my site directors office and started to tell him about the pain I experienced. As I stood there in front of his desk, another stabbing pain hit, out of no where… He could see I was in a lot of pain and suggested that I go home and get it checked out. I left work that day, having no idea it would be my last day working for the agency that I had worked so hard for.

You see, when I started my job at “RCIL”, I worked in the field. I worked with individuals that had developmental disabilities. Some had mental health disabilities as well. My job was Per Diem, meaning there was never guaranteed work. Being that there wasn’t any guaranteed work, I took all the cases I could… while most people had one or two cases on their caseload, I had 6 or 7. I had a desire to make my way into their office. I wanted the Mon-Fri salaried job. So I worked and worked and worked in the field. I went above and beyond, and after being with the agency for a little over a  year, I was offered a position within the company as a Community Habilitation Coordinator/At Home Respite Coordinator. I loved the job. I loved the agency. I hated the pay.

Lets be honest here… if you work with people, you’ll never be rich. It’s a sad truth, but it is THE truth nonetheless. In very rare situations do you make a lot of money working for people. After being in my new position for about a year, I was offered a job as a manager at Lexington Center. I was so torn about what to do, but the fact is, Lexington was offering more money. So foolishly, I left my position at RCIL and took a new job with Lexington.  While all of this was going on, my wife, Desiree and I had a six month old baby. We also had my oldest daughter with us Tuesday’s, Thursday’s and every other weekend. While I was very appreciative for my opportunity with Lexington Center, the fact is, it wasn’t the job for me… I was averaging about 100-110 hours every two weeks. I was salaried, so when I figured out my hourly wage, I was actually making about $1.50 less per hour than I was while working at RCIL. I was never home. My wife missed me. I missed my wife. I missed my kids. Something needed to change.

The entire time I was at Lexington, RCIL kept offering me to come back. Sadly though, I could not come back to my position that I previously held. Instead, I would be a Self-Direction Coordinator/Fiscal Intermediary. I took the job excited to work with one of my best friends. I also took it for the simple fact that I wanted to be back in the agency. The job was high stress, low reward. I enjoyed it, but not as much as my other position.

July 29, 2015… little did I know that when I went out of work that day, that my life would completely change. I ended up being hospitalized. I had every test under the sun done. They thought at one point that I was having mini-seizures. They almost took my license from me for 6 months… I fought with them about that and they agreed to let me keep it. They even began talking to me about permanent disability. Two weeks before I was scheduled to go back to work, I received an email from my director. She informed me that my position was relocated to their main office in Utica and that I no longer had a job in the Amsterdam office. I was devastated. At that moment, my wife, who had been so supportive, and I sat down and started coming up with a new plan. We knew we needed to make changes. Big changes. So we wrote out all our bills and started to figure out what we needed vs. what we wanted. It was amazing to us that we had very little “needs” bills, but we had a lot of “wants” bills. So we cut out a lot of the wants… and quickly we lowered our bills to right around $850.00 a month. Yes, $850.00 a month.

How many people can say their monthly bills are that low? Desiree and I have never been materialistic people. In fact, we hate money and what it does to this world. I fell into the “money trap” when I took the job at Lexington. It’s so easy to be persuaded into something by simply dangling a little extra money in front of someone. We’ve all done it… but this time, we weren’t falling for it. This time we were making a lifestyle change… and although we loved what we were doing, there were a lot of people that thought we were crazy. Very crazy!

This past year has been insane. I’ve dealt with a lot of health issues. The Tabor’s, as a family, have been tested multiple times. Every single time, we stayed strong, got through it together and came out even stronger. We’ve lost friends over our lifestyle change. People suddenly think “oh my Gosh, they’re so poor now.” … when the truth is, we’ve never felt so rich. There’s a huge difference between being “poor” or choosing to live a more simplistic lifestyle. Our bills are paid. We have gas in our vehicle and there are groceries in the cabinets/refrigerator… not that we need to defend ourselves. While the rest of the world is struggling to pay their bills, or while they’re busy “keeping up with the Jones’s”, we have what we have… we’ve downsized… we eliminated a lot of bills… we started homesteading more… and we have some very exciting plans for our future… and although it’s sad that through this past year we’ve lost some friends and others think we’re poor and crazy… the fact is, this has been such an awesome year for us… has it been a little chaotic? Yes. Has it been a little stressful at times? Yes. Has it been a little heartbreaking at times? Definitely… but like every other time, we’ve succeeded. With love, and faith, humility and integrity, we’ve succeeded. We’ve grown… as individuals… as husband and wife… and as a family! We’ve really learned what’s important. We appreciate the things we have. We appreciate free will. We appreciate our family that has been supportive. We appreciate the friends that have stayed by our side through thick and thin. We appreciate God giving us the strength to get through the things we’ve been through and the things we will continually get through as this next year comes along.

At the end of this day, I look back on the year that was so crazy. On the year that attacked my health in so many ways… and while I do not have all the answers and while I do not understand the lesson I’m going to learn through it all, the fact is, we’re still way more blessed than most… and for that, I am forever grateful. The good Lord has blessed me with an amazing wife and amazing kids. I couldn’t have gotten through this past year without them. I love you girls more than you’ll ever know… and although we have no idea where this next year will take us, the fact remains that I’m so thankful for you girls. I love you all with all of me… forever!

Where ya been, Tabor?

It’s almost been a year since I’ve written anything here. At first when I realized this, I felt bad… but then I stopped and thought about the fact that it’s my page and I can write as often or as little as I’d like lol… but with that said, where the heck have I been? This past year has been crazy. So we had another baby. Yes, you read that right, at 43 years old, I’m a father once again. Oh my goodness. To say the least, we were not expecting this one. Desi had gotten Covid and was feeling some nausea. After getting over Covid she couldn’t get rid of the nausea so I jokingly said “go take a pregnancy test.” Well, a few moments later Desiree called me into the bathroom to show me a pregnancy test that had lit up brighter than her Covid test lol… and so we started to prepare for our life to change once again. On November 12th, 2022 (11-12-22) baby Josephine arrived. Josephine Leslie Anne Tabor. We call her Joey. 

To say life has changed a lot is an understatement. Without Joey, life was a bit hectic. As a lot of you know, I’m a stay at home dad. I homeschool our two kids, Charlie Girl and Beauie Boy. Life before Joey has its tendencies of being hectic and busy. With Joey, it’s all out chaotic. Before Joey we had schedules. After Joey, there’s no such thing as a schedule. Our schedule is Joey’s schedule… and it changes day to day. It’s a lot sometimes. Oh yeah, I almost forgot the best part… Joey is VERY colicky… yeah, two kids I’m homeschooling all while trying to take care of a colicky newborn. Like I said, it’s a lot sometimes.

Now recently I’ve started having terrible cases of insomnia. I’m not getting much sleep at all, which takes its toll on your mind and body. I’m exhausted all day long. I try going to sleep at night, but my brain just doesn’t allow it. I’ve had some great people offering up suggestions on things to do or take that’ll help me sleep. Last night I took some local honey and organic tart cherry juice. I also added a video of meditation. It’s very soothing and if you’re paying attention to what she’s saying, it helps you fall asleep. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, but definitely more than I have been getting, so I take that as a win. Here’s hoping that tonight is even better than last night.

So what else has been going on over this past year? We have a Kia Sorento that sucks. It just hit 100,000 miles. Should have a lot of life left… but man, we’ve put so much money into this vehicle. We may trade it in for something else, but I just don’t see how we get as low payments as we have now. If we can, I’ll trade it in. If the payments are going to be more, no thank you. I’m not a huge fan of the Kia regardless, but it fits our family, so I should be more thankful for it… but when you’re constantly putting money into the vehicle it gets disheartening. 

Desi took a job within the county. It was hard for her to leave the law firm but the county job is 12 minutes from our house compared to 40ish minutes. The pay is more, and she gets more hours. She really had no choice but to take the job. She’s doing a great job and there’s a lot of potential for her to make some really good cash there. I know she misses the law firm terribly but I also know she’s excited for possible promotions within the county. I still wish she could work from home like she used to, but it doesn’t look as though that’s going to be a possibility at this point. We’ll see where life takes us.

We no longer attend a church. As I type that, part of me feels sad… but there’s also a part of me that feels that huge weight lifted off my chest, and I enjoy it. I won’t get into any dirty laundry, but it was time for us to leave. I wish the church nothing but success. It’s funny though, I always said “if you want to know who your friends are, start going to church”… and now, I say “if you want to know who your friends are, stop going to church”… sadly, you find out that you have just as many fake friends on both sides of the fence. When we started going back to church we had friends think we were crazy. We had some people unfriend us on Facebook. Leaving the church, we’ve had friends who think we’re crazy… and while they haven’t unfriended us on Facebook, they have stopped talking to us. I’m not mad at anyone anymore. It is what it is… but it was a sad pill to swallow. One thing it’s taught me is that I’m very careful with the word “love”… all the people that said they loved us on a weekly basis, but didn’t even reach out once when we left. Yeah, that’s not the kind of love I want to experience. There’s a reason my circle is so small.

My family is great. My oldest daughter, (Kalle) is kicking butt. She’s married to an incredible human being named Jason. We love him. They both have great jobs. They have a great home… and they have great kitties that they adore. Honestly, I couldn’t ask for more when it comes to Kalle (I call her Lu)… she’s made me so proud to call her my daughter.

Other than that, it’s just been my health. Mental health is no joke. It’s a daily battle for me. I’m thankful I have meds that have helped balance out my brain, but that doesn’t mean it’s still not a battle every single day. My body is still shot. My back hurts every single day. I battle sciatic pain every single day. It’s pretty sad when you’re just used to being in pain. I have this Central Sensitization that bothers me. I have degenerative disc disease. The fact is, I should have taken better care of my back when I was younger. 

So that’s some stuff about me and where I’ve been this past year. My plan is to write more. I love it. It’s therapeutic… but I also know how hard it is to have any free time with a newborn. I’m only writing all this because she’s been napping. With that said, she’s waking up which means it’s time for me to end this. Until next time… What you do matters!

It’s been a while…

It’s been a year and a half since I last posted anything. So what the heck have I been doing? Well, to be honest, I’ve just been surviving. One month after my last post, Desiree took a job at a lawyers office. Covid caused us to close down the daycare… so she decided she wanted to go to work and I was going to stay home with the kids and homeschool them. 

This was a huge shock to our systems. Having her gone Monday through Friday wasn’t easy. It wasn’t easy on the kids and it wasn’t easy on us… but we’ve adjusted and even though it still sucks that she’s gone, we’re getting used to it. Yes, a year and a half later and we’re still just getting used to it. Honestly, I don’t think we will ever truly be used to it. When our hearts are as connected as ours are, it’s hard not being together 24/7 like we were… but like I said, we’re getting used to it as much as we possibly can.

So in the last year, what has been going on? Life. The kids are doing well. They’re growing like weeds. They are loving homeschooling. Right now with it being winter, they’re battling some cabin fever, just like I am. Spring will be here soon enough and I plan on us being outside a lot so they can run around and get some of their energy out. They need it. I need it. I love my kids and love being able to be home with them, but sometimes it’s hard on me. I miss human interaction… and it’s hard because between the anxiety meds I’m on and being away from human interaction so much, it feels like I don’t know how to even interact with people anymore. I know how to be Daddy to my kids but I feel like I’ve lost being Timmy, the man. Yes, the man 😉 … so there are times where it’s tough being a stay at home Dad.

My meds. Man, my meds. I went through a rough patch back in September. I knew my meds were off. I knew something wasn’t right inside of me. So I went to my doctor’s office and asked for an increase in my meds. We ended up changing my meds and trying that out. It took a few months and multiple increases but we finally got things to a place where I wasn’t having panic attacks and feeling extreme waves of anxiety. 

That should be a good thing, right? No panic attacks are great. Not battling extreme anxiety is good… but now I don’t feel much of anything. I’m just existing. I don’t have a passion for anything. I’m not as outgoing and full of life like I once was. I’m not myself anymore. I feel like I’m a shell of myself… and that really sucks. The positive about this med is that I’m not gaining any weight (having a hard time losing weight though) and there’s no sexual side effects from this medication… but I’m a shell of myself. Some people would say “just change your meds again”… the problem with that is so many anxiety and depression medications cause weight gain and sexual side effects. Those are two things I’m not okay with having. So I feel like I’m stuck. I used to have so many things that I was passionate about… and now, they’re just “eh” to me. That makes me sad. That has taken me to a place of depression that I never thought I’d be in. I sleep terribly. I’m exhausted all day. I want to do something but have zero desire to actually get up and do it. I survive through another day. Then I go to bed and the cycle starters all over again. It’s depressing.

I look forward to my weekends with Desiree and the kids. She’s always telling me I should go out and do something with one of my friends… but the truth is, we get so little time together that when she’s home, I just want to have family time. The weekends go by so fast and then it’s time to start another week. I hate it. Do I miss being social and seeing friends? Sure, to an extent I do… but I’m not the same friend they’re all used to. I’m not the same light hearted goofball I once was. That side of me just isn’t there anymore. I miss that person. I think I lost a lot of that person when I quit drinking. It’s hard to hang out with drinking buddies when you don’t drink anymore. I gave up drinking because I didn’t want to be drunk with my kids around. Now, my doctor tells me I shouldn’t drink at all because of my liver levels. (not that I’m a drinker anymore anyways. I haven’t really drank in many years) Just another negative health issue.

But I also have a hard time going out and doing anything because of Covid. The truth is, and this is me keeping it 100% real, I’m scared to do things. I’m scared to get Covid. I’m scared of Desiree getting Covid. We both have health issues. Especially asthma. We quarantined for a long time once the pandemic started and it’s hard to come out of that shell. We go places and wear our masks the entire time. We don’t let the kids go in anywhere with us because Beauie Boy won’t keep his mask on and I don’t want him getting Covid and passing it onto Desiree or me. I’m a man of faith, but how much faith do I really have if I don’t even trust God to keep me and my family safe during a pandemic? But the truth is, I’ve seen too many Christian people get the virus and end up really sick. I don’t know how to get past this fear.

My health issues don’t help either. I’ve dealt with one thing after another and it’s gotten really old, really quickly. I just want to be healthy. I just want to sleep a solid 8hrs at night… but it’s hard to sleep. My arms constantly fall asleep. My back is shot and causes me issues all the time. Finding out I have Central Sensitization was a blessing and a curse. Finding out I have Degenerative Disc Disease was a blessing and a curse. A blessing because it’s nice to know what’s wrong. A curse because I know what is wrong with me. It’s a catch 22. 

What is Central Sensitization?

Central sensitization occurs when a person becomes more sensitive to pain. The central nervous system is made up of the brain and the spinal cord. Abnormalities in the way the central nervous system processes pain may be responsible for the symptoms experienced in chronic pain disorders.

What causes central sensitization disorders?

Doctors aren’t really sure what causes central sensitization disorders, but most agree that the brains of people who have it sense pain differently. Because the central nervous system is in a persistent state of hyperactivity, the patient may experience pain with things that aren’t normally painful, or have increased sensitivity to a painful stimuli.

Central sensitization can lead to heightened sensitivities across all senses, not just the sense of touch. Patients can sometimes have sensitivities to lights, odors and sounds. Patients may have poor concentration or poor short-term memory. Increased levels of emotional distress, particularly anxiety may also be associated with central sensitization.

Some cases of centralized pain seem to be triggered by an event — like an infection or illness, physical injury, or emotional upset. Genetic factors also might play a role.

Although central sensitization disorders are a chronic condition, its symptoms may come and go. They can be mild at times, and at other times so severe that they interfere with normal activities. Many kids with chronic pain can attend school regularly, but their abilities vary depending upon the severity of their symptoms.

Symptoms of central sensitization disorders include:

Widespread pain

Fatigue, poor sleep

Headaches

Anxiety and depression

Poor memory or concentration

7 years is a long time to have a battle going on inside your mind. I’ll continue to fight and move forward but my God it’s frustrating. Today I am tired. Today I am feeling drained. I hate days like this. Days where I know there’s a lot I could do, but I have zero desire to do anything. Zero ambition. Zero drive. Zero passion for anything… but then again, here I sit, writing… something that I love to do but haven’t done in forever. I wish I were working on Draven Acres but this will have to work for now. Maybe tomorrow I’ll have more passion to write more of Draven Acres. Maybe I won’t… either way, it’s okay because I’m allowed to have good days and I’m allowed to have bad days and I’m allowed to have in between days. So maybe I’ll write more tomorrow, maybe I won’t. I guess we’ll see. Don’t give up, Timmy Tabor… this too shall pass…

Biopsy Results…

8 months. 243 days. 5,832 hours. 349,920 minutes. 20,995,200 seconds.

Now these numbers are not 100% accurate, but they’re awfully close.

This is the time I’ve spent with more emotions flowing through my mind than I sometimes knew what to do with. 

Let me start off by saying that I’ve been declaring since day one that I knew my God had me in the palm of His hand and that I was going to be okay… 

So let’s keep it real like I always like to do… yes, I knew God had me and that’s where my faith was… but that doesn’t mean there weren’t some really rough moments. That doesn’t mean that there weren’t a lot of sleepless nights. That doesn’t mean that my thoughts didn’t want to go to the worst possible places…

But that’s where I tried even harder to dig into my faith. That’s where I spent more time praying. It’s where I spent more time engulfed in worship…

And still, there were down moments. Still there were moments where I was straight up sad. Where I was straight up concerned. Where I was straight up feeling depressed. Where I was straight up scared. Yes, even with my faith being so strong, I was still scared. 

But God…

And I know saying “But God…” is looked at as being a little “cliché” these days but it’s the truth… through the many emotions I felt, there was God. Through all of it, God was still there… He never left me… He had me in the palm of His hand, just like I knew He would.

Over the last 8 months I’ve either posted something on Facebook, blogged or vlogged about what has been going on with my health. The last time I had a scan done, they found another swollen lymph node in my abdomen. The same area where they had originally found one that was 3.3cm… this time it was 2.8cm. So they scheduled a biopsy for last Tuesday, September 8th. When I woke up from the biopsy, the doctor told me the lymph node had shrunk to 1.5cm, but was a “little abnormal”… So for the last six days, I’ve been waiting, as patiently as possible to get these results… and today they finally came.

There is something showing that my body is fighting off a virus or infection of sorts, but… NO CANCER AT ALL! So this is the second lymph node that has been biopsied and both have come back negative for cancer. 🙂

Due to the abnormality though, they want to rescan me in three months and check to see if this lymph node is still swollen or not. They’re not sure what could be causing these issues with my lymph nodes, especially since it has been 8 months of back and forth… but knowing that I DO NOT have lymphoma is such an incredible relief. 

With all this that has happened, it puts things into perspective. Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve talked with Desi and I keep saying that once I got these results, I was going to push forward and truly live… not just exist… life’s way too short and you never know when it could completely change for the worse… the truth is, I’ve had a rough 5-6 years of health issues… and I said that 2020 would be the year that I got my physical health back in order… and although it’s been a long 8 months, the facts remain that my physical health has been getting back on track… this lymphoma scare being the biggest concern. IT. IS. FINISHED… So now, I live. I live like never before. If there’s things I’ve wanted to do, but haven’t for whatever reason, I’m going to push toward it. The calling that God has on my life, I’m pushing toward it, 100%… I’m not okay with ever being concerned for my life again and saying “if life ends, I can’t believe I didn’t do _____”… I’m always so thankful for all I have, but I’ll be honest, tonight I feel a little more thankful than normal.

For those that reached out or prayed, thank you. My family and I appreciate it. Our God is faithful!