Warning: This entry is under the influence of a powerful, and in my opinion, most wonderful drug. I have been given a dose twice as high as I have had before, and I will say that I wouldn't mind it doubled again. But with my sensitivities to drugs, even the doctor who has stepped while mine is out of the country wanted to be conservative (I have learned a common dose is eight times greater than my sliver of tablet). It is a drug that is best described as providing distance. So, I am rather drugged right now and care not a whit that I am.

First, I will say I feel as if I have stepped back to Wednesday. I know that stress can cause MS symptoms to rear their ugly heads and today was most certainly stressful, but I was discouraged that it seemed to take me an hour to walk into and then out of Target, even with Pastor bearing more of my weight than he should. But I have jumped ahead.

I went into work early so that I could be extra productive before I left for my appointment with the surgeon. My boss was less than pleased I caused myself to become ill last week and I was trying to show that while I am under the weather, I can still produce. I was able to get the final grant question drafted. My goal was a complete draft by the 19th, so I am ahead of schedule. They are these really complex, deep questions that you only have 2,000 characters, including spaces and punctuation, in which to answer. The grant is $200,000, and I genuinely believe that we can win it in the next few years (generally with grants you have to go through a few cycles before you get accepted), since last year we were short-listed and vetted before falling out of contention. That was the first year we had applied.

So, I drafted the final question, drafted talking points for a letter of support from one of our County Supervisors, made revisions to the cover letter for another grant application we have pending, created a Google Analytics account for another one of our websites, and started adding code to it. That was a good day's work if you ask me.

But as the appointment drew near, I was trembling and nauseous and quite nervous. I also did not sleep much last night and have not eaten much in more days that I care to admit. Sometimes, my heart does not follow my head very well.

Pastor helped me to get through my appointment, where I did not get the answer I wanted, but I did have a bit more hope held out to me. Essentially, I have to start over with a new specialist and the thought of doing so weighs on me. I cannot really explain why I accepted Pastor's offer to accompanying me on this journey. Really, in my world, it makes no sense. But I will say that without his support, I should not have found the courage to continue. I do wonder, though, if I am starting all over how much longer he cares to hang out in waiting rooms.

I had some complicated questions for him to answer for a much needed distraction, but ended up trying to talk about something else that I thought might affect his answers. He missed dinner with his family again. That bothers me.

So, on the way home, we stopped to pick up the miracle drug. Originally, the primary doctor had thought it would help me with the appointment, but I was uncomfortable being out of control during that time. I was not opposed, however, to drugging myself into oblivion so that I might forget this day.

This day, I have been more teetering and tottering than really walking. I had to keep fighting dizziness and my hands and feet were tingling much of the day. I could check with Pastor, but I am fairly sure that it took longer to walk in and out of Target than it did for them to actually prepare the prescription. And, though I am sure he would not be surprised to know this, I had to work very, very hard to keep from just collapsing to the floor a few times. Not falling. Collapsing. Wet noodle time. Frankly, by the time I was settled in to the car with the air-conditioning on blast (Target was warm for me and I was working to hard to walk), I was wondering if, yet again, I had been consummately selfish in asking to stop for the prescription. Then, as we pulled up to the house, I faced a wave of pain as my muscles began contracting again. Truly, that was discouraging. After all, I have to return to work tomorrow with smile on my face and exuding productivity. How do you do that when you are in pain and feeling the wet noodle?

Getting into the house was a chore. Getting from the couch to the kitchen for water took a near Herculean effort. However, I am currently sending warmest thoughts to the makers of Zanax and hoping that Pastor's mighty big heart extends to the sacrifice he made in making that extra stop.

I snoozed and then actually ate a small meal, all the while not really thinking about anything. Not work. Not MS. Not my lingering guilt over last Wednesday. Not doctor's appointments. Not the future. Not the past. Nothing, really. I was still.

In that stillness, I was able to return to the Augsburg Confession, Article XIII, that I was reading on Saturday.

"Our churches teach that the Sacraments were ordained, not only to be marks of profession among men, but even more, to be signs and testimonies of God's will toward us. They were instituted to awaken and confirm faith in those who use them. Therefore, we must use the Sacraments in such a way that faith, which believes the promise offered and set forth through the Sacraments in increased (2 Thessalonians 1:3)."

One of the things that I have been confronted with of late are the realities of the Sacraments, specifically Baptism and the Lord's Supper. The former, for now, is what I want to mention.

I have always been taught from the camp who views Baptism as something you do for God, a public confession of belief. Lutherans, being of the objective camp, believe the polar opposite: Baptism is something that God does for you.

Water. Word. His Name. These three wend together in the act, be it sprinkling, dipping, or dunking. It is an act that happens one moment in time, when we are washed anew and given the gifts of faith and salvation. It is an act that happens each and every moment hence. The Lutheran says not I was baptized, but that I am baptized. I am, so I am saved. I am, so I am forgiven. I am, so I am loved. I am these things because God did this work for me, not I. With the work dependent on God, it is sure. It is perfect. It is complete. It is enduring.

What a blessed Truth! To be washed anew for the rest of your life! What a blessing to have, from that first moment in time, assurance of faith in Christ through out all that life brings. Our doubts, our trials, our darkness does not matter. An unwavering assurance because baptism is not an act of man, but of God.