I made a new friend last week. Lisa Marie is the adult daughter of a dear couple from my church. She is beautiful, intelligent, unique, talented, joyful, and so many other wonderful things. I didn’t meet her at a party or an event. I actually met her in a dark room where we had to speak in hushed whispers.
The quiet darkness was not a temporary situation. Astonishingly, Lisa Marie has been confined to a dark bedroom for 26 years. Her captor is not a person but an illness called Lyme Disease. When Lisa Marie was 12 years old, contracting this illness changed the trajectory of her life forever. Lyme disease is caused by a bacteria often found in ticks and can be transmitted when an infected tick bites a person.
Lisa Marie went from being an active girl involved in sports, music, church youth gatherings, and other fun activities to suffering from debilitating joint pain, light sensitivity, dizziness, crushing migraines, and a host of other physical ailments that cause her to require a caregiver to attend to all of her needs. Her parents have faithfully cared for her all of these years. She can’t tolerate the noise of the television or the sound of her favorite music unless it is played very, very softly. She can’t walk. She can’t bear any noise above a whisper.
I can’t imagine the boredom. The loneliness. The longing for the life she once knew. Yet Lisa Marie has a joy that surpasses understanding. She trusts God with her life. She can truly say with the Psalmist, “In him our hearts rejoice, for we trust in his holy name,” (Psalm 33:21). It is her trust in God that sustains her, and she has spent many hours in the quietness of that bedroom communing with her Maker. She reads her Bible in the dark with a small flashlight and has memorized large passages of Scripture. Her favorite verse is Psalm 73:26, which reads, “My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.”
The thing that amazes me the most about this precious woman is the maturity of her faith even from such a young age. She began writing poetry about her struggles when she was barely a teenager. Her writing is a beautiful testimony of how God has worked in her life to teach her contentment, hope, and joy in her extraordinary circumstances. I feel a strange connection to her because I, too, have found writing poetry to be the way God teaches me, encourages me, and helps me sort through difficult emotions.
It seems fitting that I met Lisa Marie during the season of Thanksgiving. When I reflect on what I am thankful for, I realize that I have so much more than I ever imagined. I never thought to thank God for the ability to turn on a light without piercing agony in my head. I never thought to be thankful that I can laugh loudly with friends, enjoy music, walk, care for myself, and go outside whenever I want.
I am convicted when I look at Lisa’s Marie’s life in comparison to mine and the amount of complaining I do in comparison to her. I realize I have nothing at all in my life to complain about. I am convicted about the many things I take for granted.
I am including some of Lisa Marie’s poems that show her sweet, humble spirit and love for the Lord. Her mother, Karen Angotti, also wrote a magnificent and heart-wrenching book about their experience that can be bought on Amazon. It is called Lyme Disease: A Mother’s Perspective.
What are you complaining about? What are you taking for granted? What are you thankful for this Thanksgiving? I am thankful for my new friend Lisa Marie, who has taught me much about thanksgiving.
I want to glorify God with my life, and His Word says we glorify Him when we are thankful. “I will praise God’s name in song and glorify him with thanksgiving,” (Psalm 69:30).
HOLD MY HAND
Lord, life sometimes is oh, so hard.
With mountains high and valleys low.
Please hold my hand with gentle strength.
Oh, never let me go.
Lord, at times I feel like giving up;
The road is rough and long.
But if you’ll hold my hand real tight,
My heart will always sing Your song.
Lord, some days I seem to want my way,
To do what I think’s best.
Instead, please lead me by the hand
Into the perfect will You’ve blessed.
Lord, I know You said You’d never leave me,
Yet now and then I feel alone.
Clasp my powerless hand in Yours
For I am never on my own.
Lord, what do You think when I’m afraid
When I’ve no cause for doubt or fear?
It must cause You unfathomed pain
When you are standing there so near.
So, Lord, when I start to cry for You
Begin to wonder if You understand,
May I always know with a perfect peace
You are there – waiting – to hold my hand.
-c. Lisa Marie Angotti age 16
CUP OF ANGUISH
Sometimes it all seems too much,
This overflowing anguished cup.
I say, “I can’t; I’m not this tough.”
But then I see upon that tree
The Man of Sorrows slain for me —
Unshakable even to death.
And though my strength has nothing left,
I feel a deep, steadying Breath.
For a sacrifice so infinite,
May my gratitude be evident.
In Your strength, I know I can,
So, precious Lord, with all I am,
I surrender to Your perfect plan.
-c. Lisa Marie Angotti, age 40
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