"Why Is This Happening To Me?": Helping Kids Navigate Chronic Illness

Today my beautiful, smart, strong, and loving ten year old son asked me, with tears in his eyes, "Why can't I be normal? Why is this happening to me?"

Ever since he was a baby, my son has dealt with pretty severe stomach issues. When he was nursing, all I could eat for months at one point was baked chicken, rice, and broccoli. Then when he started on solid food, he was still always sick. At one point he was diagnosed with a fructose allergy, and we were told he could not eat fruit or anything with fructose in it. That seemed to get a bit better somehow, and we went for a time when his symptoms were mild, but then he ended up with a rectal prolapse which was super scary, but after some treatment, it resolved. He still went on and on with general stomach issues until we started eating a Paleo diet for my own health, and a lot of his issues improved, but not all. We were always more lenient with him because it was unclear what was wrong with his stomach and all allergy testing and other tests came back fine so doctors told us changing his diet could not make a difference.

However, changing his diet made a big difference, not only in improving many of his stomach issues but also other things, such as sensory processing disorder. That is another story for another post though.

Even with so many diet changes and improving, he still has episodes of stomach distress because we are still working on figuring out exactly what is triggering his symptoms. Actually, he was really doing well with barely any symptoms even on a 90% Paleo diet until three or four months ago when he got what we think was a stomach virus that just completely messed up the balance in his gut. He was vomiting on and off for four weeks. Now, if we stay strict Paleo plus removing some extra things, he does pretty well. But, there are still flare ups. It seems like we can not deviate from a very strict list of foods at all, which is hard. We travel often and we try to make sure when we eat out that the food is safe, but he still gets sick anyway.

Today, all he wanted to do was go to his CrossFit class, which he loves. But he was doubled over in pain. That's when he asked me, "Why can't I just be normal? Why is this happening to me?" All I could do was say, "I know how you feel."

I do know how he feels. I have had Irritable Bowl Syndrome my whole life and lactose intolerance (which got a bit better after my pregnancy actually,) and colitis more recently due to a bad setback with my binge eating disorder. Like him, all of the tests from doctors have been completely unhelpful and everything comes back negative for any allergies. I have lived in that place of not knowing why something is happening to me. I also have all of the mental illnesses on top of that, so I know what it's like to just want to be normal. Normal enough just to be able to function half way decently in the world, and not miss out on everything you love. Something "next to normal," as the musical says.

My son asked me "What if everything makes me sick? What if I can't eat anything except what you make, and I can't do that forever. What if I never get better? What if there are only three things I am not allergic to. What do we do then?" I told him we would do whatever we have to do. We will keep working hard with health professionals to find out what is wrong with his stomach, and if he has the most limiting diet ever, then we will do it.

My son, helping make almond milk since he can't have dairy.

I could have given him the pep-talk about how no one is normal and normal is just a setting on a washing machine. I do not think that would have helped though. Really what he was asking me was, "Why can't I just not be sick all the time?" and "What does this mean for the rest of my life?" At ten years old he is questioning if he will have to always be sick, and always put his life on hold for his illness.

So I was honest and told him I have no idea why bad stuff happens, but I do know that the most powerful thing we have is each other. We can be "not normal" together. I also let him know that if if there is anything I have learned from being wildly outside the norm and missing out on a ton of life due to my illnesses, it's this:

It sucks, it's hard, and it takes a ton of work. But... you learn to be a fighter even when you don't want to be and you think you can't go on, you learn to have compassion for others and their struggle in life, you become a more empathetic and loving person, you want to help other people suffer less, and you find hope even when you are convinced there isn't any. 

Blessings,

Rev. Katie

Body Shame Triggers Mental Illness, Body Love Heals

I have a great TEDx talk to share with you all today: "Change Your World, Not Your Body," given by Jes Baker at TEXx Tucson. It is a fantastic talk about how embracing body love is not just good for us personally, but it can have a global positive social impact. One thing I love about the talk is that Jes addresses something that few people talk about in relation to body love- how our culture of body hatred contributes to mental illness.

Mental illness is a two part illness having both chemical and environmental factors that can cause, trigger, and/or exacerbate it. All of the body hatred we learn in our society contributes to the increasing rates of mental illness, and not just of eating disorders. Depression is hugely effected by the relationship we have with our bodies. If you are prone to depression, you do not need the body hatred messages that say you are not good enough, no one loves you because of what you look like, and you do not deserve to have relationships with other people. That increases the depression, loneliness, and isolation.

My cocktail of mental illnesses are highly tied in to my view of my body. In the beginning, I thought that I was depressed and unable to do anything because I was disgusting and lazy, because I was taught by our society that overweight people are lazy and unsuccessful. That contributed to me spending more time trying to loose weight, and less time actually finding the right professional help for my mental illness. My treatment was put on hold due to my body hatred. Jes talks about this in her TED talk, that "We put our life on hold, we stunt it, because of our bodies." This is a huge problem for everyone, but a serious problem for people with mental illness who forgo focusing on mental health treatment because we are taught that the real problem is just that we are fat or ugly. If we just lost the weight or got rid of our acne, we would be happy and successful. In fact, our whole beauty industry revolves around this message, that a happy and balanced life can be obtained by being beautiful.

My husband can tell you that when I have a "bad body" day, a day when I hate my body, my rapid cycling bipolar disorder cycles even faster. Body shame, which teaches us "I am bad, because of my body," is a very dysfunctional message to send to your mind. If we walk around in a state of shame, of believing we are bad, then we are reinforcing negative pathways in our brain. If we keep those pathways going, neuroplasticity says that we will make shameful beliefs about ourselves a pattern, and a reality for us.

If we believe we are bad, our mental health is harmed in many ways.

If we are bad, there is no hope for recovery. If we are bad, there is no hope for a better life. If we are bad, we have no choice and no agency in our lives. If we are bad, neuroplasticity is a lie, treatment is a lie, and we will be sick forever. If we are bad, we deserve to be punished, which leads to body harm for many of us, as it did for me.

Jes Baker and me at her Readers Dinner in San Francisco.

Body shame and hatred also significantly contribute to, or can cause anxiety. If we believe that our bodies are disgusting, need to be hidden, and we do not deserve to be in the world, we will become anxious. Some people become obsessive over choosing what to wear to leave the house in order to be sure that they encounter the least amount of name calling or shaming from others as possible. Many people live in a state of fear of physical violence when they are out in public, because of what they look like. People have been abused to do being thin, fat, for the color of their skin, their acne, rosacea, hair, clothes, and more.

I have a panic disorder that actually was triggered due to body shaming. I have Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS) and Lactose Intolerance. When I was just a child, six years old, people used to make fun of me for not being able to go out because I was sick. They mocked my lactose intolerance and said I was making it up. People were relentless in saying that what my body was doing was not real and that I was only trying to get attention. That is body shame of another kind- shaming someone for how their body works. Some professionals have told me that the way to "get over" my anxiety was to learn that no one will make fun of me and most people are genuinely nice. That is not really a world that we live in, when we have a culture that constantly makes fun of bodies that do not work "correctly." I have talked to many people with Celiac Disease who are constantly made fun of. I don't trust that people will be kind if I get sick in public, so I live every day, every moment when I am with others and often even when I am alone, deathly afraid of getting sick.

Embracing body love is essential to good mental health. Body love does not mean only accepting your weight, but everything about your body- how it ages, what it looks like, and how it works. Embracing body love and using that philosophy with the treatments my therapist provides, like Emotional Freedom Technique (EFT), has been very important in the treatment of my mental illnesses and my ability to get well. Plus, I had to accept that my body works differently than most peoples in order to accept my mental illness. I also had to accept my body in my treatment plan, because I was very upset that medications kept making me sick and I could not take them. I was very upset that I had to change the way I ate, slept, and functioned every day because my body (which includes my mind), is "different." If I don't love my whole body the way it is, then I don't follow through on treatment and I get worse.

This is definitely something we need to be talking about more and we need to start changing our world.

Blessings,

Rev. Katie

There Are No "Demons Inside"

Joan Raymond wrote an article for NBC News about how teens with mental illness often hide their illness. The article raises the issues of why teens hide their illness, such as how during the teen years, anyone who is "different" is often bullied. It discusses how mental illness is seen in society as scary or weird, and so teens feel unsafe talking about how they are doing. The article also talks about how hard it is to actually even get mental health care for teens. Overall, it's a decent article that raises important issues. (I disagree with putting in the parts about the school shootings, and a quote from a teen accused of plotting violence who self-diagnoses and says "I think I am just really mentally-ill." The research does not support violence being linked to mental illness, and I have written about that previously.) It's an article that is meant to raise awareness so that we can do something, help teens feel safe to speak about their illness and get them proper treatment.

However, the title negates the whole message:

"Demons Inside: Teens at Risk Can Hide Mental Illness"

What teen or parent of a teen with mental illness would ever read this article and feel safe talking about mental illness when the title equates mental illness with "demons inside?" The title is emblazoned across a photo of Kenny Baker and his parents. Kenny died by suicide at 19 years old due to depression and anxiety. I feel for his parents. How it must hurt to see a beautiful photo of them with their child, and have the words "Demons Inside" splashed across it.

Mental illness has nothing to do with demons or inherent evil. Using a title like this promotes stigma and fear- the very things the article was attempting to combat. This "demon" idea is an old, outdated belief that stems from fear, in a time when we had no medical and scientific understanding of the brain. We no longer live in the middle ages. And yet, many people still believe people with mental illness are inherently evil, have let the devil into their soul, or are possessed by demons. Consistently since I started this blog a few years ago, the number one search term that brings people to my blog is "bipolar caused by evil spirits." If you read the comments on the NBC article, you will see quite a few people who think that mental illness is caused by the devil. We can not be promoting those ideas.

I have had mental illness since I was six years old. I remember news stories about murders or violent crime and hearing the terms mental illness, demons, evil, and possession being used all the time as reasons for the violence. I knew something was wrong with my brain, and there was no way I was going to tell anyone. What kid wants to be told they are inherently evil? What child or teen would ever feel safe in that environment?

Equating mental illness with demons and inherent evil that you have no control over also gives children and teens the message that no matter what they do, they will always be evil. They will never get better. They have no future, no chance in life.

There are no words to describe the immense self-fear and loathing this message creates. To be taught that even if you try to be good and kind, you never can be. To be told that at some point, because you are evil or possessed, you will hurt other people. This means there is no hope for you. You have no worth, no dignity, and no soul. And if there is no hope for you, then seeking out treatment is not an option. It's a terrible life sentence, and I am extremely disappointed to see this message in 2014 promoted by NBC News because they chose to sensationalize the title to get more readers.

I emailed Joan Raymond about my concerns with the title, but have not heard anything back yet. Who knows if she or her editors chose the title. Whoever it was, they were being very irresponsible.

Blessings,

Rev. Katie

My Days Are Shorter Than Yours

We are driving across the country for our move, and events like this are some of the times when I hate the limitations of my illness. I have a limited amount of time each day when I can be engaged and functional. Most people can drive for 6-8 hours and then have a night out of sightseeing and dinner. I however reach my breaking point much earlier than that, and just can't keep up a whole day of interaction.

I wish that I could spend all day with everyone and go out and do more interesting things. I want to force myself to do more, but at the same time I know if I overextend myself, I will eventually be unable to function at all.

I don't think most people understand living with a chronic illness, particularly one they can not see. Healthy people, understandably, don't know what it is like or what it means to have limited time and energy throughout the day. Basically, those of us with certain illnesses have a shortened day. While other people have 24 hours, we might have 8, 10, or even less. Can you imagine trying to fit in all you usually do in less than half the time?

What is even worse is that since other people don't understand such limitations, you come off as being selfish, not willing to do what other people want. But for me, going out to dinner or functioning past my limit is like expecting someone with a broken leg to run a 5K. It's not a choice to be unable to do something.

The Norris Family, somewhere at a rest stop in Nebraska.

I try every day to live my life in balance, to not do anything that will take away from my ability to function, but it's a circular issue. If I push myself one day and over do it, then I do not have the ability to do the things I need to stay more balanced and have more functional time during the day. For instance, one evening of going out will mean coming home overly exhausted, anxious, and possibly manic. In order to calm myself down from a state I can no longer control, I might eat a whole bunch of sugar to increase the serotonin in my brain. This leads to either not sleeping at all or not sleeping well, which means the next day I have even less energy and then I have to choose: "Do I use what little energy I have to go exercise, which is essential for balancing my mood?" or "Do I use what little energy I have to get my son fed and ready for school?" At that point it creates an ongoing deficit from which I can't recover unless I take a lot of time off to recuperate, at which point I don't even have the energy for the basic essentials in life. Seriously, tasks that are easy and quick for most people, such as getting out of bed and brushing their teeth, is extremely hard for me at times. Those tasks might take someone else a bit of energy and ten minutes of their day. For me it can take as much energy as running a few miles and an hour of my day.

So for me, decisions to go out and do more and have more fun are not actually decisions about myself only. I have to decide how much I can do so that I keep my illness managed well, which is what allows me to take care of other people. It allows me to get my son to school, feed the dogs, get my work done, be kind, be stable, and contribute to the world around me.

It is hard to be the one who is, essentially, the "party-pooper." I don't think the people I am with are required to change plans because of me, but I know many people feel forced to do so because they feel bad leaving me alone or they want everyone to stay together. However, I like to try and make sure my illness limits other people as little as possible. I usually always like to drive my own car so that if I can not stay out as long as everyone else, then I can go home. I get my own hotel room at retreats and on vacations because I don't want other people to have to limit what they do because of my needs.

Of course, the two people I am always with, my husband and son, are often the ones who are effected the most by my limited ability. Often things we really want to do together as a family, I don't do because even on the best planned days, something can go wrong and I end up having far less functional time than we anticipated. It's hard for them, but I always try and be honest that this is my illness and has nothing to do with them. I also show them how I am always learning how to manage my illness better, so that over time I have more functional time or I learn to estimate better so I can follow through on our plans more often.

I hate being unable to do what most other people can do. I hate it not because of how it makes me feel, but more because of how it makes other people feel. Which I know I am not responsible for, but it still bothers me.

It is very hard to have an illness that few people truly understand, which most people see as unreasonable, fake, or selfish because then you feel ashamed of taking care of  yourself. You feel bad for not being able to go out to dinner or going to an event because other people see it as selfish rather than understanding that it is just not healthy or safe for you to do.

I am fortunate to be traveling with family who understands that I can't function after a certain point. I wish the rest of the world was like that though because I know those of us with such illnesses would have a much easier time remaining stable and able to function to the best of our ability, if we were not shamed into doing more than we can handle.

I encourage other people like me to not take on the shame someone else tries to put onto you, no matter who they are. Stick to the choices that make you healthy and able to do as much as possible, for you. And, find friends and family who don't shame you and spend more time with them.

Blessings,

Rev. Katie

P.S. A great post was written on this topic called "The Spoon Theory," which I think everyone should read.

Corseting: Respecting How My Body Works

This post was originally written for The Body is Not an Apology, where I am a Content Writer.

I have had a binge eating disorder since I was in grade school. Sitting down to eat a family-sized bag of Skittles on my own in one sitting was not unusual for me. Now I know that binging on food, especially sugary food, was the only way I knew at that age to medicate my mental illnesses of panic and bipolar disorder. Sugar does a lot to the brain, especially increasing serotonin, just as antidepressants do - except that sugar is unregulated, and you need more and more of it to get the same effect.

Due to binge eating, I gained weight and started dieting - mostly starvation diets and low-fat diets that made me feel horrible and actually did make me crazy. My anxiety and bipolar disorder went through the roof every time I dieted, but I didn’t care, because at least I was skinny and people treated me better. This is what everyone told me to do, even doctors.

With all of the dieting, I lost all sense of hunger cues, I ate processed foods with no nutrition because they were low in “points,” and I rarely ate fruits (too high in calories) or vegetables because you couldn’t eat them with anything that tasted any good. Sandwich Thins and fat free bologna comprised every meal, while I binged on Skinny Cow ice cream bars in between. As long as I lost weight, the doctors were happy - and the weight loss company I was paying was really happy. I would go for half a day without eating to save up my calories for a meal I wanted if I was going out with friends.

Then, two years later, I could not handle the dieting and I would gain the weight all back. I swung to the other side, still eating processed foods, but not the low-fat ones anymore. Whether I was dieting or not, I had constant stomach issues; rarely did food stay in my body for very long. I was allergic to some of what I was eating and had terrible skin problems as well. Basically, I learned to destroy my body - to never listen to it and what it needed. I was told my stomach issues were all Irritable Bowel Syndrome and it was normal for me to be sick all the time. No doctor ever recommended to me that I should listen to what my body was telling me.

This cycle of binging and dieting slowly started to change when I started wearing a corset daily. First of all, as I mentioned in my previous post, due to wearing a corset, I don’t hate my body anymore, so I rarely feel like I have to diet or look different. Second, wearing a corset requires you to know your body. You have to respect your body.

Rev. Katie with her son. Corset by Dark Garden. 

When you get a new corset, the steel bones are stiff. It needs time to be seasoned and to mold to your body. You have to learn to listen to your body and to never wear a corset too tight, too long, or if it is applying pressure anywhere that makes you hurt.

I also find that I can’t starve myself in a corset. Whenever I under-eat (such as with dieting), I get light headed, tired, angry, and tend to have faster bipolar swings. In a corset, I become aware of when I am hungry faster, and I have to eat small meals throughout the day, which for me is better for my brain. (Some people do great on intermittent fasting and other patterns of eating.) I think since the corset helps you learn to honor your body and listen to it, corset wearers learn what pattern of eating is best for their bodies and helps them function well.

Previously, I had been able to put up with the extreme stomach pain and other daily issues from eating things that did not work well with my body. Now in a corset, when I eat something that bothers my stomach, I notice right away; the extreme cramps caused by allergenic foods are apparent while corseted. Many people while corseted cannot drink carbonated drinks or foods that ferment in the stomach, such as pasta. When corseted, I don’t eat things my body does not like because I know it will be uncomfortable, and because becoming more aware of my body has made me respect it more. Before I could just get away with ignoring my body and abusing it. The corset makes me very aware of everything my body feels and, for me, this change has resulted in being pretty amazed at how my body works.

My experience with corsets is not unique, and it is also not universal. I am sure some people continue to abuse their bodies while corseted. Different things work for different people. But there is so much negative stigma out there about people who wear corsets that it’s important to shed light on the ways in which corsets help many of us. Society sees corsets as oppressive garments that women only wear for attention, but many of us who wear them have found them to be extremely helpful on our journey to radical self-love.

Blessings,

Rev. Katie

Corseting: Embrace Your Own Beauty Standards

This post was originally written for The Body is Not an Apology, where I am a Content Writer.

When I went to my first corset booth at a Steampunk convention, I was very embarrassed. I had only seen corsets in the media on very thin models, so I was sure that no one would make a corset big enough to fit me. The artistry of these handmade, steel-boned garments was amazing, though, and I had to inquire about them. 

Wearing my "Dollymop" corset from Dark Garden.

At the booth were men and women, of all shapes, assisting customers with trying on corsets. The corsetier had many plus sizes available and was happy to make a corset in any size you needed. This was the first shopping experience I had had where I did not feel out of place and as though everyone were wondering why I was there.

Last month, I was able to stop at Dark Garden Corsetry & Couture, where I was also pretty nervous because they make corsets for Dita Von Teese. I felt like I did not belong in a shop that creates garments for beautiful people. The woman who helped me never batted an eye, never questioned my size, and never treated me as though I were not good enough to belong in a place that clothed models and performers. She treated me with such respect that I felt safe and accepted, which is rare in my life.

I have come to find that the corseting community is extremely body positive. Most tightlacing groups and blogs all have a “body/corset snark free zone” label on their pages. They do not allow body shaming or shaming of how you choose to wear your corset. I had never really been in a community like that. People of every gender, ability, shape, size, ethnicity, culture, and country all come together around this one topic where we all support each other in being body positive and practicing radical self love.

Being part of this community has taught me to be snark free when talking about my own body and the bodies of others. It has also allowed me to learn to not care what other people think about what I look like.

At first, I was scared to wear a corset in public, especially since I like to wear them over my clothes because it is easier to adjust them if I need more pressure when I am anxious. The first few times I wore a corset in public, I did have people comment on it: “Can you breathe?” “Is that safe?” “That’s inappropriate.” As I spent more time in the corset community and saw so many people supporting each other and the concept that no one gets to tell you how to look or judge your character based on how you dress, I started not listening to other people and their beliefs on how I should dress. I am learning to say “Eff Your Beauty Standards.”

Plus-sized model Tess Munster started the “Eff Your Beauty Standards” campaign. She says, “For everyone that says we can’t show our tummies, wear a pencil/form fitting skirt, wear a bikini, wear sleeveless tops... YOU can! I want YOU to join me in wearing "daring" fashions & stop hiding your body because society tells you to.” (Tess looks great in her corsets.)

As I have learned to feel less ashamed of myself and follow my own beauty standards, I notice that people don’t really comment on my corset anymore. At least, not negatively. If I go into a room with my head down and my arms crossed to cover the corset, people feel the need to say negative things to me. When I go into a room confident and I don’t focus on my corset, I get no negative comments. In fact, my confidence seems to make other people more comfortable in telling me that they like the corset, especially older women who tell me all the time how pretty the corset is.

I still wear the corset under my clothes or under a jacket when I am in places that I know are unsafe. Usually, those are places where people want to try and exert their power and seek to shame me. One day, I will not hide it in these places, but emotionally, I am still building up to being ready to handle a verbal attack. I don’t think I would have ever gotten to the point where I was actually confident in what I wear- not the “fake it ‘till you make it” confident I had been practicing my whole life had I not started wearing a corset and participating in such a supportive community.

Blessings,

Rev. Katie

Overcoming Self-Harm: My Messy Beautiful

This essay and I are part of the Messy, Beautiful Warrior Project — To learn more and join us, CLICK HERE! And to learn about the New York Times Bestselling Memoir Carry On Warrior: The Power of Embracing Your Messy, Beautiful Life, just released in paperback, CLICK HERE!

This post comes with a trigger warning because it is about self-harm. However, I hope that by sharing with you one of my most Messy, Beautiful stories, if you are currently struggling with self-harm, that this helps you “Carry On, Warrior,” as Glennon would say. We need to know we are not alone. In order to heal, we need to hear from people in similar situations as us who have carried on, and been able to work through some of these messy parts of life.

Here is my Messy, Beautiful story:

October 20, 2013 was the first day of Brene Brown’s online class, The Gifts of Imperfection, through Oprah’s Lifeclass series.

I had all my supplies ready for my art projects. I was ready for six weeks of focusing on combating shame and embracing vulnerability. I was ready to be courageous and embrace my imperfection!

The first part of the art project was “Permission Slips,” where you wrote down some of the things you needed to give yourself permission to do in order to engage in the work of this class. Some of the “Permission Slips” might even be things you needed to give up. I knew there was one thing in particular I had to give up if I was going to be sure I started to heal from shame. I did not want to write it down though.

The second part of the project was to take a photo of yourself with “I’m Imperfect and I’m Enough” written somewhere on your person; most people chose to write it on their hand.

As I was getting ready to take my “I’m Imperfect and I’m Enough” photo, I could feel the pain in my legs. Every time I sat down, the fabric of my jeans pulled against raw skin. I had to remember to be careful how I sat so that I did not aggravate the sides of my upper thighs where the day before I had cut myself. This was the thing I had to give up, cutting. 

Writing it down would not be enough because I knew in a few days the raw skin would heal, I would forget the realities of what I was doing to myself, and I would do it again. A picture would be the only way to remember the gravity of what self-harm does. A picture was the only way to adequately describe what happens to me, and many people like me, when shame is so overwhelming and so painful that the only way we know how to release that inner pain so we can get through our life, is to cut ourselves.

That’s what self harm is, a release. Not a cry for help, not one step closer to suicide, it is a survival mechanism. I admit, not a good survival mechanism, but often the only one we have when we are not getting the help with shame resilience that we need, or we have not healed enough yet to have other ways to survive. Contrary to popular belief, cutting is not only a teen phenomenon or even something that starts in the teen years. I did not start cutting until a few years go, at the age of 33. It was actually an accident. I dropped a dish and I was overwhelmed because it was one more thing that went wrong that day. As I was picking up the ceramic pieces, I cut myself on one of them. I felt relieved and calm, and that’s how it started.

Photo copyright Jeff Norris, 2013.

Then on October 20, 2013, I took the typical “I’m Imperfect and I’m Enough” photo where I am smiling with the words written on my hand, this is the photo I let others see. However, I also had my husband take a photo of me where I wrote “I’m Imperfect and I’m Enough” with the raw cuts on my legs. I was finally working with a therapist, the first in 19 years, who understood trauma and shame, and I was embarking on this six week class with Brene Brown. I knew that now was the time to give up cutting forever because I had the support system I needed to be successful.

That was the most Messy, Beautiful photo I have ever taken.

Blessings,

Rev. Katie