A Story I Would Rather Not Write
Some of my favorite writers — Parker Palmer, Frederich Buechner, Richard Lischer — have demonstrated the value of telling personal stories, not for pity or self-aggrandizement, but in the hope that someone might catch a glimpse of the Word that became flesh in Jesus becoming flesh through our lives. Most of the Bible, in fact, is the collection of personal stories of the way ordinary people experienced the exgtraordiary presence of God and shared it with others. So, here’s a current story I’d be happy not to be sharing.
Around Thanksgiving in 2018, I woke up with a strange numbness in my leg which didn’t go away. After MRIs, nerve testing, CT-scan, a 15-day stay on the neurological floor in the hospital, and two trips to the Mayo Clinic in Jacksonville, I became a little weary of being a “special” (i.e. “weird”) case! They rejected a diagnosis of MS (multiple sclerosis) because it’s very rare in a 70+ year old male. We settled on a diagnosis of ADEM. We’ve managed it well by medication and physical therapy with a team that specializes in neurological issues. But…
A Diagnosis I’d Rather Not Have
Recent MRIs and additional testing have confirmed that it is MS. I asked if an earlier diagnosis would have made any difference in how we’ve treated it. The answer was, No. When I asked about the prognosis, the neurologist said, “At your age…” (not always a phrase I like to hear!) “…we should be able to manage the symptoms with meds and continued physical therapy.” I will hopefully avoid the more debilitating symptoms younger patients experience. We’ll see. I’ve been a “special” case the whole way through! A lumbar puncture and a consultation at UF Shands Hospital may give us more information on what to expect. Meanwhile, I’ve been learning a lot of MS.
I did not know that 80% of people with MS experience “MS Fatigue.” Never wanting it miss out on anything, I fit the description perfectly. It hit like a truckload of sand. There’s no way to know how long the incidents of fatigue might last, though it is improving right now. I’m back into the pool and restarting therapy.
I’ve looked forward to being the keynote speaker for the Festival of Wisdom and Grace for more than a year, but had to cancel. The theme is John 10:10, “You shall have life and have it abundantly.” I’ve enjoyed the challenge of having something to say about “Aging Abundantly”. Now, I have lots of new material!
The Life I’m Grateful to Live
So, how are we doing and what happens now? Several thoughts…
- Begin with honesty. “Facts are stubborn things.” This new fact about my life is not something I can avoid or ignore. It simply is a realty that will be with me for the rest of my life. Someone said, “You can’t fix what you won’t face.”
- Center in gratitude. My life has been better than anything I could have imagined or created. I’ve received so much more than I ever earned.
I’m grateful for a healthy marriage to a woman who knows how to ask the right questions and search for the best answers, who is as loving as she is disciplined, and who loves me enough to do whatever it takes to see this through together. I’m grateful for a beautiful place to live, amazing family and friends, and excellent medical resources. (Thank God for Medicare and health insurance!) - Accept limitations and losses. A few years ago I became convinced that a key to aging well is learning to deal with the limitations — things I’d like to do, but am no longer able to do — and losses — the inevitable loss of opportunities and of friends who won’t be here to share the privilege of getting old. It’s about finding the grace in letting go.
- Celebrate memory. I’m won’t be doing the amount of travel I once did or that I would like to be doing. But as long as I have my memory, I can revisit places, people, and experiences that have shaped the person I have become. Isn’t that why Jesus broke the bread and poured the wine and said, “Do this to remember me”?
- Draw on spiritual reserves. I’ve preached and written that one of the reasons to practice the disciplines of the faith is to nurture the spiritual resources that will be there when we need them. The faith that sustains us in the crisis is the faith we bring into it.
With all that, we keep on keeping on and keep learning along the way.
The Assurance I Have
A long-time friend and colleague is going through a horrendous illness that we know will end his life in the not too distance future. To compare (which we should never do!) my diagnosis of MS to what he is facing is like the guy with a canoe complaining to Noah about the boat! I detest the way his diagnosis has disrupted the life he and his wife had planned and is short-circuiting all they have to live for. I resent the pain and discomfort they are experiencing. I hate what it is robbing from all of us who love them. But they are facing it with the ruthless honesty, persistent courage, and profound gratitude that are the result of years of faithful living, spiritual discipline, and loving relationships that have brought them to this point.
In his classic sermon after his son’s sudden death, William Sloane Coffin told his congregation, “You gave me what God gives all of us–minimum protection, maximum support.”
I can pray for, but cannot promise, that God will give us protection from the diagnosis we don’t want or from the forms of disappointment, defeat, or evil around us. But I’m confident that God provides “maximum support” for every time of need when we have trained our minds and hearts to receive it. That’s the “Blessed Assurance” we declare when we sing, “This is my story, this is my song…”
Grace and peace,
Jim
Jim Harnish 
Well Jim, this may be the last turn
Grateful for the parts of the journey we share. Peace be with you.
Beautiful, Bro.
Jim: Thank You for sharing your diagnosis. You, Martha and your wonderful family will be
Beautifully written, Cousin. I love you and will be praying.
Hi Jim! I ‘m Tom Macaulay who used to be Jack’s D.S. when he was in Ann Arbor. I’ve always admired your ministries, albeit Jack’s from closer up. I’m so very sorry for this unwanted and unsought drama in your life; I have a sister who’s been diagnosed with M.S. I know it can be a most challenging force in one’s life! Ugh. Thank you for teaching us… for showing us… how we might confront life’s extraordinary challenges in life. Your questions are well thought out and CAN lead us to a better place emotionally and spiritually in our life journeys. I especially admire how you refuse to shrink from the challenges… and confront them head-on; the only helpful way, it seems to me. I’ve added you and your family to my prayer list. I wish you blessings and peace on the Journey… and courage and resilience when the way seems especially daunting. We are never, ever alone. YOU are never, ever alone. Thanks be to God! Indeed.
Thanks for your words and witness.
Jim, Wow, a story you’d rather not write and one we’d rather not read. I’m so sorry to hear what’s going on, but hopefully with the diagnosis you now have proper therapy and medication protocols and peace in knowing what’s happening. Thank you for writing so beautifully and sharing so personally with us. We’ll be reading along and journeying with you. Thanks for reminding us of your Blessed Assurance, I’ll be humming along with you. Sending love and prayers to you and Martha and all.
Oh Jim, what a tough story to hear. Jamie and I send much love and prayers to you and Marsha. You hold a very special place in our hearts.
Jim,I
Jim, thanks for your courage, honesty and faith in sharing your journey. As always, your words bless and inspire all of us in our own journeys. I’ll certainly be praying for you, Martha and the family as you walk this road. May you know God’s maximum support along the way! And thanks for all the ways you have mentored and blessed me o er the years!
Thanks for who you are and all we share together.
Dear Jim,
I’m sorry to hear of your physical problems and the diagnosis of MS. I’m heartened to hear of the medical and physical resources you have and I rejoice in knowing Martha, your family, your colleagues, your numerous former-congregation friends will walk with you on this journey.
One of my favorite authors is the Rev. John R. Claypool who wrote this Benediction for his congregation. It seems to speak to you now…
….. go now in the fellowship of God. And as you go, remember: In the goodness of God you were born into this world; By the grace of God you have been kept the day long, even unto this hour; And by the love of God fully revealed in the face of Jesus you are being redeemed. So I pray for you, my brothers and sisters: Go now, go with God, do not be afraid. There is goodness, there is grace, there is love that wants to travel with you all the day long and eventually bring you home. Go gently and under the Mercy.
With much love and prayers, Flossie
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Flossie:
Thanks for your warm response and for sharing the words from John Claypool. You friendship and faith continue to be a beautiful gift.
Jim, I just read this – I am so sorry. You and Marsha will be in our prayers. Please keep that positive attitude. Love you, dear friend. Harry and Mark
Jim, I
God is Good, All the Time.
Jim Thank you for this update. You will never know how much your friendship and random calls meant to me as I faced my recent medical “opportunity” …. Thank you. You and your family have been a regular on my prayer list since I read about you canceling your Junaluska speaking. I knew that was a gig you would not miss without real cause. The Harnish family will continue in my thoughts and prayers. If there is something specifically I can do to help… please ask. Blessings and SHALOM, Tom MC
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Tom: Thanks for your constant friendship and encouragement. I think that’s what Wesley’s “connection” is about!
Dear Jim,
As always, when confronted with severe obstacles, you are facing this unseen and unwelcomed disease/condition with truth and a humble spirit. But, frankly, it just stinks.
I will have you and Martha in my prayers and hope that we can get together in the coming year. Bruce and I miss both of you.
Peace and love,
Cindy Tigert
Jim and Marsha, you continue to be role models to us all even with the biggest of challenges. Peace and Comfort to you both
Dear Jim,
What a beautiful line from a beautiful song. My mom used to sing it around the house and it pops into my heart when I need it. I hope it is comforting your heart and soul and mind and body these days.
We all know you are special, but I’m sure you didn’t bargain for this particular definition of the word. Know that Howard and I are praying for you and for Marsha as you write this story and sing away your fatigue and challenges.
I, too, am “special” in that not so exciting way. I always wanted to be a mysterious woman but not in this undiagnosed manner. My journey has been similar to yours but only for 2 years. Five specialists and everything ruled out except perhaps Bubonic Plague! Weird legs and a couple of toes. Even got sent to an allergist known as a brilliant medical detective. Word of the year: Idiopathic. Meaning no one has a clue. Now in PT just in case it’s structural and they missed something in all the MRIs and neuro and vascular tests.
So learning to live with it as fully as possible, and knowing you, I’m sure you’ve been doing that since 2018 and will continue to do so as you embrace and make friends with MS.
As I tell all our dementia caregivers, don’t forget to laugh! Great medical data on the power of laughter. I’ll bet you’ll find good research regarding laughter and MS.
So I’ll leave you with my mom’s favorite joke from when she was in Memory Care. She read it to the group every night after dinner and got great laughs as no one remembered the joke much less the punchline. (And I will never forget your kindness in visiting mom in Memory Care. It lifted her spirits for days.)
Here’s the joke: “What did the termite say when he walked into a bar? ” Drum roll………. “Is the bar tender here??”
Peace with courage and joy, Mary Webb and Howard WALKER
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Mary Webb: Thanks so much for your message. I enjoyed hearing your lilting voice and wonderful laughter as I read it. It also brought back beautiful memories of visiting your mother.
Thanks for sharing your health journey, too. We become so accustomed to the assumption that medical science can explain and cure everything, that we are stunned when we run into things that don’t fit those categories. One doc told me that “idiopathic” means “only an idiot would try to explain it.” But it sounds like are doing your best to deal with it in a positive and hopeful way. We’re certainly intending to do the same!
Other than my diagnosis, we’re doing well. Martha has recovered from some unexpected kidney repair surgery and we are experiencing the realities of being “of this age,” but are overwhelmingly grateful for the good things we share.
Please give Howard my greetings. Take care, be well, and do good!
Jim
Jim, though you do not know it, you are one of my heroes and mentors in the faith. I regularly read and share your writings with others. Thank you for your honesty in sharing your story. I remember my father (also a United Methodist minister) saying to me once that often people facing a hard time minister to us much more than we are able to minister to them … just as you have done in telling your story. May you feel God’s love and peace surrounding you on your journey. Anne Travis